


Stump

by AquaQuadrant



Category: The Walking Dead (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputation fic, Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical language, Character Death, Clementine will not be romantically paired with anyone, Currently being rewritten - Freeform, Disabled Character, Drama, Everyone's in it but I don't want to tag them all, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, No pairings at the moment aside from canon ones, Season 2 Rewrite, Whump, crossposted with ff net, gross misuse of italics, seriously there's so much italics, you might end up with nuke anyways bc i am trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 57,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3894292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaQuadrant/pseuds/AquaQuadrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life in the apocalypse isn't easy; Clementine knows this better than anyone. But after being bitten in the shed, she finds it's even harder with only one leg.</p><p>(Amputation!fic, S2 rewrite, originally posted on FF, currently being rewritten, warnings will vary by chapter)</p><p>Also posted on Fanfiction.net under the same name.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Amputation, blood, gore, canon-typical violence, canon-typical language.

Clementine choked back a scream, tears streaming down her face as she tried to tie off the last of her stitches.

Her shaking fingers struggled to form the knot, the thick fishing line slick with blood. The shed smelled strongly of rotten wood, blood, and antiseptic, and Clementine was fighting back the urge to pass out, black spots dancing in front of her eyes. She sucked in a sharp breath as a wave of nausea swept through her, squeezing her eyes shut as she waited for it to pass.

"It's gonna be okay," She whispered to herself. "I'm going to be okay."

Only half-believing it, Clementine grit her teeth and went in for another attempt, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. The bite hurt like hell, and every pull on the tender area drew a strangled gasp from her. She pressed on, maneuvering the line into a knot and pulling it tight; thankful it was her left arm that was injured. Being right handed, this would have been nearly impossible to do.

The stitch was finally secure.

"Thank god..." Clementine breathed, blinking back tears.

The hard part was done. She took a sip from the juice box, grateful for something else to taste besides the blood in her mouth from biting her lip so hard. Now all she needed to do was wrap it in bandages and call it a night. In the morning, they'd come get her, and see that they'd been wrong.

She had some choice words for that doctor. What kind of doctor couldn't tell a dog bite from a walker bite?

Clementine reached for the bandages, but her hand was still unsteady and she knocked it off the table. It landed with a soft thud, rolling a few inches away. She stifled a groan; who knew what had been on that filthy floor? Nevertheless, it was all she had in the way of bandages, so she bent over to retrieve it.

She found her face mere inches from a walker's.

A real scream tore from her throat as she fell backwards, the walker growling as it pulled itself inside the shed. Faster than she could've anticipated, its hand shot out and grabbed her right ankle, its nails digging into her skin.

Clementine grabbed the leg of the table and _pulled_ , her leg thrashing in an attempt to get free. Her hammer was on the table. She had to get it, or she was going to die.

Pushing against the ground with her left leg, Clementine strained for the hammer, her fingers brushing the tip of the handle. It was just out of reach…

The walker lunged forward, and pain shot up her right leg.

With a shout, her other leg slipped out from under her. Clementine lost her balance and landed hard, flat on her back. All the air rushed out of her lungs, her breath rattling in her chest like she'd swallowed nails. Disoriented, she didn't realize that the walker was on top of her until it lunged for her neck.

Her arms shot out and locked against its chest, keeping it just out of reach to deliver the killing blow. Her injured arm was in agony, shaking with the strain, but there was no way she was letting go. The living corpse gnashed its teeth together, its clammy hands scratching at her face as it tried to shake her grip. She tucked her legs in close and shoved them into the walker's stomach, kicking it away with all her strength.

She scrambled to her feet, her body screaming in protest. Her arm was on fire, her leg stinging from the fall, and the pressure in her chest made it hard to breathe.

_Weapon… find a weapon!_

Clementine scanned the shed for anything she could use. The hammer had fallen to the floor, an inch away from the walker, which was rising to its feet, its dead eyes fixed on her.

_Too risky._

She backed away from the walker and nearly tripped over a brick.

_This will do…_

Clementine took the brick and hurled it as hard as she could at the walker. The brick connected with the corpse's skull, sending it lurching to the side. Thinking quickly, Clementine grabbed a rake from its hook on the wall and drove it into the walker's chest, pushing it back.

There was a plow hanging on the back wall, its sharp blade facing out. With a final push, Clementine sent the walker stumbled back into it. The blade ripped through the walker's chest with a spray of dark blood, its guts spilling out of the gaping wound.

The monster was still alive, growling and snapping at her, but it was stuck.

Wasting no time, Clementine dropped the rake, grabbed her hammer, and drove it into the walker's skull. The corpse fell silent, sagging against the plow.

Clementine hunched over, breathing heavily. It was over.

The heavy door opened, flooding the shed with moonlight. Shadows stretched across the back wall, and several voices started talking at once.

"What the hell-"

"How did it get in?"

"The shed should've been safe."

"You alright..?"

"Clementine?"

Clementine didn't respond. She let her hand slide off the hammer, turning around slowly. She met the anxious gazes of the group, her golden eyes flicking from one person to the other.

"I- I…" Her voice cracked and she took a shuddering breath. "I don't…"

She tried to take a step forward, but her leg wouldn't support her anymore, and she sank to the ground. She squeezed her eyes shut and curled into herself, willing the pounding in her head to go away. Someone approached her, their footsteps quick and heavy.

Clementine looked up into the concerned face of Luke. He had been the one to rescue her from the forest, after her dog bite. He had a long sort of face with a square jaw, lined with stubble, and wide brown eyes, which studied her carefully.

"Clementine, are you okay?" He asked again, kneeling down to her level.

"…hurts…" Clementine whimpered, her voice small. "Everything... h-hurts…"

"Okay, we need t'get you into the house, alright?" Luke ran a hand through his hair. "Carlos'll take a look at you. Can you walk?"

Grimacing, Clementine shook her head. Her leg hurt.

_Why did her leg hurt?_

"Alright then, I'm gonna have t'carry you. Is that okay?"

Clementine wasn't listening. Her leg was throbbing now. She replayed what had happened in her mind, right up until her leg started hurting. The walker had grabbed her ankle and then jerked forward, and…

Her stomach dropped, her heart beginning to race. Her pant leg was dripping blood. Not possible. It simply wasn't possible. Carefully, Clementine rolled up the leg of her jeans.

_Oh god…_

"Clementine, what's wro-" Luke trailed off mid-word, his eyes widening. "Holy shit."

"What is it, Luke?" Someone called. "What's going on?"

"I'm bitten?" Clementine stared at her leg, uncomprehending. "I... I'm bitten…"

The bite was deep, about two inches above her ankle. Dark blood streamed from the wound, dripping to the floor. Her sock was soaked. A wave of nausea swept through her, tears springing unbidden from her eyes.

"Oh my god, I'm bitten… I'm bitten!" Her voice was shrill, and panicked, and it didn't sound like hers at all. "No, no, no, I- we have to do something, I can't- please, no…"

_"Motherfu-"_

"Oh my god…"

"We can't, not like last time-"

"We have to do something!"

"Get Carlos!"

 _"Fuck,_ Clementine," Luke's voice brought her back. "We have to- god, I dunno we-"

"We have to cut it off," Clementine realized. "Now."

"But-"

"I said _now_ , Luke!" Clementine balled her hands into fist. "I-I don't wanna turn! I won't! Please, help me, it's the only way, we have to…" She choked back a sob. _"P-please."_

"Okay… okay, but not out here." Luke told her, gathering her carefully into his arms. "We'll go inside, alright? Carlos'll know what to do."

"O-okay..." Clementine sniffled, burying her face into Luke's shoulder.

_This can't be happening…_

She began to sob, her whole body shaking as the gravity of the situation fully hit her. A bite meant certain death. She was about to cut off her leg, and it wasn't guaranteed to save her. Everything she'd been through, her whole life, could end right here, right now.

She wasn't ready yet.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Where should I put her?"

"On the couch."

Luke carefully laid Clementine down on the sofa. She was barely clinging to consciousness, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes. His heart was pounding, blood rushing in his ears.

 _They_ had done this.

"What exactly happened?" Carlos asked, setting down his medical bag on the coffee table.

"Hell, I don't know..." Luke ran a hand through his hair. "Somehow, a walker got in the shed… it must've nabbed her during the fight."

"Fuck, what're we gonna do?" Nick paced behind the couch, biting his fingernails.

"Right now, you can make yourself useful and go get our antiseptic," Carlos ordered, rummaging around in his bag. "It's probably in the bathroom."

"Yeah, okay..." Nick was in too much shock to argue, and he raced up the stairs without complaint.

"This is bad," Pete murmured, standing in the corner of the room with his arms crossed. "She's in rough shape, Carlos."

"I'm perfectly aware, Pete," Carlos cut away Clementine's jeans at her knee. "We're going to need towels."

The request went unspoken, and Pete hurried up the stairs. Luke hovered by the couch, anxiety building up in his chest. Guilt clawed at his insides.

"We never should've put her in that damn shed." He said.

"It was supposed to be secure," Carlos replied, tying a rope around Clementine's thigh as a tourniquet. "We _thought_ it was secure."

"We couldn't have known," Alvin agreed, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "Last we checked, it was fine. And we had to be sure." He still looked uncomfortable, like he was trying to convince himself.

Nick clambered down the stairs, holding a bottle of antiseptic.

"Is this all you could find?" Carlos asked, taking the bottle.

"It's all we have," Nick replied. "I couldn't find the other bottle."

"What?" Carlos frowned. "I could've sworn-"

"Uhm," Clementine piped up unexpectedly, her voice faint. "That's… kinda my fault, I… took it, for my arm."

"No kidding?" Luke's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"And... some other stuff…" Clementine added meekly.

"The fuck?" Nick exclaimed angrily. She bristled at his expression.

"I had no choice!" She shot back. "You guys left me to die in there! I had to do something! My arm was getting worse, and you weren't helping."

"She's right…" Luke rubbed the back of his neck. "We didn't handle that situation as well as we could've."

"No kiddin'." Pete drawled, coming down the stairs with an armful of towels.

"Thank you, Pete," Carlos set the towels beside the couch. "We did what we had to before," He continued, wetting a washcloth with antiseptic. "We have our own group to think about."

The irony of the situation wasn't lost on Luke. They had been worried she was bitten, so they locked her in the shed, where she really did get bitten. The universe was cruel like that, it seemed.

Clementine didn't respond, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Sweat glistened on her forehead, and her hands were clenched into fists. Luke couldn't imagine the pain she was in.

"Listen, Clem, I'm real sorry this happened," He said softly. "I really am."

"Yes, well sorry isn't going to help her now," Carlos replied, his voice detached and cold. He was in full doctor mode. He fished two white pills out of a bottle. "These are antibiotics, to prevent an infection. If we do this, you should get them in your system now."

"If?" Clementine knit her brows together. "What do you mean, if?"

"I have to tell you there is a large chance this will not work," Carlos explained, his voice clinical. "Even if the amputation is a success, you could still bleed out, or maybe the infection has already spread too much. A gun would be a kinder death." He said simply.

Clementine took the pills and swallowed them dry.

"I'm not gonna turn. Cut it off." She said.

Luke had to admit he was impressed with her bravery. Most people would give up and end it with a bullet.

"Very well, then. Here, bite down on this," He handed Clementine a small rag. "I'm going to disinfect the wound, now."

Clementine bit down on the rag, breathing heavily through her nose. Luke could tell she knew what to expect.

"Luke, would you please hold her down?" Carlos asked. "I don't want her aggravating the wound."

Swallowing hard, Luke nodded and positioned himself beside Clementine, one arm holding her hands in place so she wouldn't strike him and the other keeping her legs still.

"Brace yourself."  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It hurt.

Clementine had never experienced an acid burn, but she expected it felt something like this. Like her flesh was melting away at the bone, burning into nothing, frying all her nerve ends with mind-numbing pain.

God, she could _smell_ it, even.

She bit down on the rag so hard she felt like her jaw would break, choking back her screams. She was saving those for when the real pain started. Tears rolled down her face, dampening the couch cushions beneath her.

"Okay, that's done."

Carlos, the doctor. He had some kind of slight Spanish accent that fit with his warm skin and dark hair. He held some level of authority within the group, that much she could tell. He'd been the one to first suggest locking her in the shed.

"Nick, go get the axe we chop wood with."

Nick. The lanky twenty-something year old with the ball cap and the bright blue eyes. He'd almost shot her when they first met. He'd been the most aggressive one there, hands down. But he wasn't arguing now, so Clementine felt that maybe he'd gotten over his distrust.

"Yeah."

Nick ran out the back door. Clementine squeezed her eyes shut. Her head was pounding. She just wanted the pain to stop.

_God, make it stop._

"Luke, I'm going to need you to do it."

"What? Carlos, I'm not-"

"You'll be able to do it more quickly than me. You've got a better swing."

"But I don't know where to cut!"

"I'll make an incision with the axe, to mark where to cut and give the blade a divot to fit into. This'll be the fastest way, and I have to be ready to stitch up the wound afterwards."

"I-I dunno, I…"

"I need you to do this, Luke. You're a great deal stronger than me."

"O-okay… fuck, okay, I'll do it."

"Good man. Pete, I'm going to need you to help me hold her down."

"You got it, boss."

Footsteps again, and a slamming door.

"Got it."

"Disinfect the blade, Nick."

"Do you need me to do anything, Carlos?"

Alvin, the large man with a large heart. He tried to convince Carlos to help her. He gave her the bandages, and a juice box. He seemed like he was on her side. She was worried about his wife, though. Rebecca had wanted to shoot her.

"No Alvin, you can go if you like."

"Okay, thanks. I'm gonna go talk to Becca."

Heavy footsteps up the stairs.

"It's done."

"Thank you, Nick. You don't have to be here for this."

"No, I'm staying."

"Nick-"

"I wanna be here in case something happens, Luke."

"It's gonna be fine."

"You don't know that-"

"Dad, who's that? What's going on...?"

A new voice. A girl, sounding scared and confused.

"Sarah, get upstairs now, and stay there until I come get you."

"But Dad-"

_"Now!"_

More hurried footsteps up the stairs.

"Alright, here we go. Everyone ready now."

A strong hand pressed down on her leg, pinning it against the couch. This was it, no turning back now. One way or another, it would all be over soon. She forced down her panic and sent up a silent prayer. Hopefully someone up there was listening.

Carlos began cutting into her leg.

All coherent thought ended. Initially, she was going to try and stay as still as possible, but self preservation won over and she screamed, like she never had screamed before, and tried to wrench herself free, fresh tears streaming down her face.

She could feel him carving a line into her flesh, feel every muscle and tendon sever, and the blood-

Another scream tore from her throat, muffled by the rag in her mouth. She was going to break her teeth, biting down so hard, but at this point that would be a welcome distraction.

"Luke, now!"

**CRACK**

Clementine felt her bone split.

_STOP STOP STOP_

_**CRACK** _

Something warm sprayed her face. She wanted it to end.

_OH GOD MAKE IT STOP_

**CRA- _ACK_ , snap**

She couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't take it-

**SNAP, crunch**

Finally, _finally_ , she slipped away into nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of amputation, blood, gore, violence, language, death, implications of depressions, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

_Clementine hugged her arms to her sides, chilled to the bone._

_There was a dampness in the air that threatened rain, the clouds overhead gray and menacing, and in these temperatures it'd be easy to freeze to death. The sharp wind blew through the trees, the pines groaning against the strain. She clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering._

_Christa poked at their dim campfire, her back to Clementine. She was too thin; her jacket hung off her frame as if it were two sizes too big. Her face was hollow, her once bright eyes now empty and lined with dark circles._

_Clementine was worried about her._

_The silence between them was heavy and unpleasant. She didn't know what she could say to ease the tension between them. Things had been tough lately, and Christa drew into herself more with each passing day._

_The fire crackled softly, and Christa sighed._

_"You should be doing this, not me…" She spoke quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself instead of Clementine. "You need to know how to do these things."_

_"Yeah…" Clementine bit her lip, hesitating. "…Omid was going to show me."_

_Christa tensed up, her shoulders hunching, before she sagged._

_"Well, Omid's not here, so I'll just have to show you," She turned slightly, so Clementine could see her face. "Come here."_

_Clementine moved to sit beside her caretaker silently, grateful for the meager warmth the fire provided._

_"There needs to be a big log for fuel in the fire at all times," Christa began, poking at the main log with a stick. "But you have to keep it fed with small, flammable things that burn easy. Like paper, grass, little sticks, that sort of thing."_

_Clementine nodded, before realizing Christa wasn't looking at her._

_"Okay," She said. "Is that all?"_

_"To keep it going, yes," Christa sprinkled some tree bark onto the fire. "But getting the fire started is the hardest part. I'll have to teach you that sometime, too." She stood up and dusted the dirt off her jeans. "And keep turning that weasel. We want to make sure it's cooked all the way through. Next thing we need is some god-awful disease…"_

_They'd caught a weasel in one of Christa's snares earlier, and the smell of it roasting made Clementine's stomach growl._

_"I'm gonna get some more firewood," Christa said. "We don't want this fire going out."_

_"Yeah," Clementine agreed. "It's really cold out."_

_"Oh, you think this is cold?" Christa smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Wait 'till we get to Wellington, and then tell me about cold. It's gonna rain, and that rain will turn into sleet, and then snow," She studied Clementine's thin, long-sleeved shirt. "We're gonna need better clothes…" She murmured to herself, turning to leave._

_"Do you think it will be better there?" Clementine asked. "At Wellington, I mean."_

_Christa paused for a moment._

_They'd only heard about Wellington from a scarce few other survivors. No one was sure if the large encampment even existed, or what it was like if it did. There was supposed to be a big wall surrounding the whole place, with tons of land and water. Clementine wished they could know for sure if it was real. She didn't want to get her hopes up, or cross a state in the freezing cold for nothing._

_"It has to be." Christa said finally._

_Clementine flinched at the woman's tone. She sounded utterly defeated, and it did nothing to put the young girl at ease. Things would never go your way just because you needed them to. She'd learned as much in her short, tragic life._

_"Sorry," Christa atoned, her voice and expression gentle. "We'll just have to see. I'll be back soon."_

_She disappeared into the woodwork, her footsteps fading away. The wind rustled loose leaves on the ground, filling the forest with a dry, shuffling sound._

_Clementine stared into the fire, swallowing the lump in her throat._

_She didn't often like to reflect on their current situation. Every day seemed to get harder… she was tired of it, honestly. Any hope of things returning to normal was gone, ripped away from her like everything else in this world._

_She blinked back tears, frustrated with herself for getting emotional, and stood to tend to the fire. She had some spare paper in her backpack that would burn really well. She turned the stick the weasel was cooking on and went back to the hollow log her backpack was stowed in._

_Clementine really didn't like her backpack. It didn't store much, for one thing, and its bright pink and purple color scheme didn't exactly blend in. And, if she was being honest, it was childish, and it made her feel ridiculous._

_Checking her surroundings once more before getting preoccupied, Clementine unzipped the main pocket and rummaged around. She had a busted old lighter, with pink flowers painted on its side. It wouldn't help her at the moment, so she shoved that into her pocket and continued searching. The first sheet of paper she grabbed was a drawing._

_Three crayon figures smiled up at her. Kenny, Katjaa, and Duck._

_Kenny was devoured in an alley, Katjaa committed suicide, and Duck was bitten. Their family hadn't gotten a happy ending. Clementine wasn't sure why she'd kept it all this time. They were dead. The picture didn't matter._

_It wasn't that good, anyways…_

_She decided to burn it, and went to close her backpack when a scrap of paper caught her eye. It was a torn photo of Lee, the color faded and the edges worn._

_Clementine swallowed, feeling childish again. It was just a photo. Lee was dead._

_And yet…_

_She tucked it into her pocket. There were some things she wasn't ready to let go of yet. Brushing the dirt off her jeans, Clementine made her way back to the fire, tossing the drawing in without another thought. She watched the flames eat holes into the picture she'd so lovingly drawn all that time ago, and tried not to feel anything._

_A branch snapped in the distance._

_Clementine was alert immediately. Christa always announced her returns, so as not to scare or surprise her. She crouched beside the fire, her heart beginning to pound._

_She couldn't hear any walkers. Walkers were always loud, growling and moaning, stumbling about on dead feet. It could've easily been an animal. Forests were full of animals, right?_

_Listening hard, Clementine remained frozen, her gaze fixed in the direction she'd heard the noise. A minute later, nothing had happened. It had probably been a squirrel, or maybe the wind knocked a weak branch loose. She let out the breath she hadn't know she was holding, the tension in her shoulders easing._

_False alarm._

_"Don't fuckin' lie to us!"_

_Or not._

_The unfamiliar voice wasn't far away. It was a man's voice, rough and deep, and he didn't sound happy at all. She could hear other voices, too, all loud and angry._

_Clementine's first thought was of Christa._

_Heart in her throat, she began to move in the direction the voices were coming from. If Christa was in danger, she had to do something, even though Christa wouldn't want her to. She'd want Clementine to hide, and wait, but that wasn't an option._

_Being mindful of sticks and dead leaves, she quietly crept through the forest, approaching the clearing the voices were coming from unnoticed._

_Christa was there, surrounded by three armed men. Her eyes were wide and pleading, flitting from one person to the other._

_"It's the truth, I swear! I'm by myself!" She insisted._

_"Bullshit!" One of the men spat. "No one gets this far by themselves."_

_"Well, I did!" Christa retorted, her whole body tense._

_Clementine slipped behind a tree, her mind scrambling to come up with a plan. There were three men, each bigger than Christa, and armed with guns. They had her surrounded in a loose triangle; if she tried to dart between any of them, she could easily be grabbed._

_She needed a distraction._

_"You've got to have a camp somewhere," One of the bandits was saying. "Tell us where it is, or I'll put a fuckin' bullet in your head!"_

_"I don't have a camp!" Christa pleaded. "You have to believe me, I'm on my own!"_

_Clementine bent over and picked up a rock, about the size of her hand, and tested the weight. It would have to do._

_"I ain't buyin' it," He took a step towards Christa, his rifle aimed at her head. "Tell us, now!"_

_"I- I don't…" Christa's eyes fell on Clementine and widened. Clementine held her gaze and mouthed 'Run'._

_She poked out from behind the tree and launched the rock at the head of the closest bandit. It connected with his skull with a sickening thud, and he keeled over with a cry of pain. Before the others could react, Christa darted forward and grabbed the lead bandit's rifle, ramming it into his stomach._

_The third bandit saw Clementine, and raised his gun. Christa cried out._

_"Clementine, run!"_

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clementine woke up with a gasp, her heart racing.

"Hey, easy there, Clem. Take it easy."

"She awake?"

"I think so. Clementine, can you hear me?"

Everything hurt. It was too bright, and her vision swam. She was lightheaded and nauseous, and once the smell of blood hit her senses she lurched over the side of the couch and vomited, her stomach contracting painfully.

"Woah! Shit, Carlos, get down here!"

"Fuck, is that _blood_ in there?"

The taste of bile in her throat was disgusting. Eyes watering, she heaved until there wasn't anything left to come up, and then sank into the couch, utterly exhausted. A shudder ran through her body. She couldn't stop shaking.

"What's going on?"

"It's Clem-"

"She ain't doin' too good..."

Their voices sounded distorted, like she was underwater. She tried to speak, but her mouth felt like lead. Her body was burning and freezing all at the same time, and her leg-

"Hang in there, Clem!"

"Carlos, you have to-"

_Her leg-_

Clementine fell once more into darkness.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Clementine ran._

_The bandit fired, and a bullet embedded itself in a tree to her right. He cursed and tore after her. The sounds of the fight faded until she could only hear her own shallow breathing, and the man pursuing her, his heavy boots crushing twigs and leaves._

_"Hey, get back here!"_

_Clementine's lungs were screaming. She took a sharp turn, weaving through the trees with ease. She heard the man swear; his footsteps were getting closer. She didn't know where to go, she had to lose him somehow, she had to-_

_A rough hand caught her by the arm, jerking her back so hard her shoulder popped._

_With a wild yell, Clementine exploded in a frenzy of fists and kicks, striking her attacker anywhere she could. A lucky kick hit his groin, and the man released her with a cry of pain. She took off again, her feet pounding against the ground._

_She burst into a clearing, skidding to a halt a few inches shy of a cliff. It was a sheer drop, straight into a river. She stepped back from the edge, looking around for another escape route. If she ran back into the forest, she'd run straight into-_

_The man crashed through the trees, looking madder than ever, and Clementine bolted._

_There was a hollow log on the ground a few feet away, and she dove for it, scrambling inside as fast as she could. It was a tight fit, but there was no way he'd be able to follow her._

_"Are you fucking kidding me?!"_

_His hand snatched her ankle before she could pull it out of reach, and he began to drag her out of the log. Clementine held fast, her hands clawing at the bark, but he was too strong. She kicked at his hand with her free leg, landing some good hits and drawing more swears, but it wasn't enough. Slowly but surely he pulled her out._

_"Let me go!" She shrieked._

_Clementine twisted in his grip and wrenched her leg free, but before she could regain her footing he grabbed her, both her arms pinned to her sides. He held her tight, and suddenly she couldn't breathe._

_Panic shot a rush of adrenaline through her, and she bit down on his hand, right where his thumb met his palm. Coppery blood flooded her mouth, and the man screamed._

_"Ahhhgg, FUCK, let go, you little bitch!"_

_Clementine bit down harder, locking her jaw._

_He released her with a strangled yell and staggered backwards, cradling his injured hand to his chest. Clementine gasped as she hit the ground, sucking in a breath of cold air. Her rib cage was sore; there'd probably be bruises._

_"Are you fuckin' serious? I'm gonna fuckin-"_

_Before he could finish his threat, he froze, listening. Clementine heard it too, and her heart sank. It was the telltale growling of walkers, and lots of them, from the sound of it._

_The first walker emerged from the tree line. The man swore and went for his gun, but he failed to notice the walker stumbling towards him from behind._

_It dragged him down screaming, the second walker joining in on the feast._

_More undead burst from the forest, moaning and snapping. They had her surrounded. Clementine pushed herself to her feet, looking around desperately for a way out._

_There wasn't one._

_Clementine turned and ran off the cliff, crashing into the river below._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clementine jolted awake violently, feeling like she was falling.

It took her a moment to stop thrashing. Her whole body was in agony. Every muscle, every nerve was shrieking. She felt like there was a weight on her chest. It hurt to breathe. So much pain-

"You with us, Clem?"

Luke's face swam into focus. His face was pale, his eyes ringed with dark circles and his hair disheveled.

"God, she's burnin' up…"

"That's a good sign. Her body is fighting off the infection."

"Can't you do anything?"

"No. All we can do is wait. The next few hours will be crucial in determining whether she can recover from this or not."

Clementine shut her eyes against the light with a moan. Her throat felt like it was full of brambles. Her mouth tasted like blood. She just wanted it all to stop. Everything was loud, and confusing, and painful, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

"She'll get through it, she's a tough one."

"That may be true, but she's lost a lot of blood."

"How do we know if this worked?"

"We don't, not yet. We might not've taken the leg off quick enough-"

**Her leg.**

Everything came rushing back to her.

_"Everyone ready now."_

Strong hands holding her down, trapping her-

_"Luke, now!"_

_STOP STOP STOP_

**_CRACK_ **

_LUKE NOW LUKE NOW LUKE NOW-_

Panic seized her entire body and she screamed, memories assaulting her in her mind's eye. She could _feel_ it, the axe hacking through her flesh and crushing bone, a sickening splitting sound and a spray of blood, thick and warm-

Clementine crashed back into unconsciousness.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Clementine was swept away by the raging current._

_The river was breathtakingly cold, and when her head broke the surface, the wind stung her skin like a whip. The impact of hitting the water had felt like a punch in the stomach, and she struggled to regain her breath. Water rushed into her lungs and nose, clouding her vision and filling her ears with a dull roar._

_The churning water bucked like a wild horse, tossing her head over heels like a rag doll. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe; she was entirely at the river's mercy. It dragged her beneath the surface, slamming her against rocks and throwing her back up just as quickly._

_Just when she thought her lungs would burst, she crashed against a river bend._

_Clementine immediately crawled away from the water's edge, coughing violently. Her entire body was bruised and aching, her lungs raw and abused, and the cold clung to her like a second skin. She was soaked to the bone, already beginning to shiver._

_More than anything, she wanted to curl up and go to sleep._

_A voice in her head riled against that thought, screaming for her to get up and moving. Her fingers and toes were numb; she was conscious enough to know that was a bad thing._

_Gritting her teeth, she pulled herself up and began to walk. All her muscles protested; her drenched clothes felt ten times heavier, and every step seemed impossible. The wind nearly blew her sideways; she had to get some shelter…_

_The edge of the forest lay ahead. Though she was reluctant to go back into the maze of trees alone, with bandits, walkers, and god only knew what else running around, she knew she had no choice. Her teeth were chattering and she was shaking; she had to get out of the wind and cold, or she was going to freeze to death._

_Clementine wrapped her arms around herself and disappeared into the woodwork._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"…what have we done…?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of amputation, violence, language, and blood.

Luke sat in the armchair next to Clementine, feeling sick to his stomach.

It had been several hours since the amputation, and the young girl kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Her temperature was through the roof, her skin feverish and clammy, and Luke could tell Carlos didn't like her chances of survival, even if he wouldn't say so.

And her leg...

The bandages wrapping her leg were soaked through with blood, leaving a dark stain on the couch cushion. The scent hung heavily in the air, settling over them like a blanket. Luke couldn't look at her leg for more than a couple seconds without feeling like he was going to throw up, so he looked up instead, his eyes tracing the blades of the immobile ceiling fan.

It was late; or early, depending on how you looked at it. Carlos had retreated upstairs for some well-deserved rest. Pete was outside on the porch, keeping watch. The cabin was still, the world outside their door deathly quiet. Nick had insisted on staying up with Luke, in case Clementine took a turn for the worse.

He paced behind the couch, his feet drumming out a steady rhythm on the wooden floor.

Luke could tell his friend was anxious; his arms were folded and he glanced over at Clementine every few minutes. Sometimes, his eyes would flick to his rifle, which was leaning up against the wall.

"Could you cut that out, Nick?" Luke broke the silence first. "You're makin' me nervous, alright?"

"I'm not doin' anything!" Nick retorted, but he stopped pacing all the same and sank heavily into the other arm chair. His anger disappeared as quickly as it came, and he sighed. "I'm just worried, y'know? I… I don't want it to happen again…" His voice dropped, and he stared down at the floor.

"I know," Luke closed his eyes, painful memories washing over him. "It won't happen, okay? Even if… even if she does turn, we... we can handle it, alright?"

"Yeah, okay…" Nick swallowed and looked over at Clementine. "Man, d'you think she'll make it?"

The question was one Luke didn't like to think about. He tried to take it all one step at a time. Take the leg off, get the wound stitched, stop the bleeding, get her stable… it had been one hellish night, and he loathed the thought that it had all been for nothing.

"God, I hope so…"

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Clementine ventured deeper into the forest._

_The trees helped block out most of the wind, but she was still freezing. It was getting darker. Her situation would soon become even more dire if she didn't find some shelter. She rubbed her stiff hands together in an effort to get the blood circulating again. What she wouldn't give for a warm, dry set of clothes…_

_She stumbled into a small clearing, dirt paths intersecting at the middle. There was a metal sign, rusted at the edges, planted between the paths. It was a faded yellow, and featured pictures of wolves, bears, and mountain lions, with bold black letters in the center._

_**'Be aware of your surroundings.'** _

_Clementine suppressed the urge to shudder, casting a wary glance over her shoulder. She couldn't let paranoia sink in… it was too easy to feel like you were being watched, and panicking wouldn't do her any favors._

_She trudged on, every muscle filled with tension. She wished she had something to defend herself with. This was probably the most vulnerable she'd ever been; unarmed, frozen half to death, physically exhausted, and all alone in unfamiliar territory, full of all sorts of hostile threats._

_Just when she was certain her mood couldn't get any lower, she came upon a grave._

_It didn't look recently disturbed, but she could see where the hole had been dug and filled. The grave marker was two sticks tied together in the rough shape of a cross, wedged into the dirt and leaning slightly to one side. It was a small grave, for someone about her size, or possibly even smaller._

_Clementine swallowed the lump in her throat and pressed on._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I don't get what the big deal is, Bec."

Alvin leaned against the wall across from his wife, Rebecca, who was sitting on their bed, his arms folded against his barrel chest. He didn't like arguing, but he simply couldn't understand her reasoning.

"The big deal is that she's a stranger," Rebecca said firmly. "We have no idea who she is or what she's capable of. For all we know, she could be with Carver."

Rebecca looked exhausted, her face pinched and her shoulders slumped, yet somehow she found the energy to fight. Alvin had always admired her passion, her determination to defend her opinions and beliefs, but lately it had caused more problems than solutions. All they seemed to do was fight.

"She said she wasn't with him." Alvin responded, his voice quiet.

"And you believe her?"

"Yes."

"See, there's your problem," Rebecca smiled bitterly, shaking her head. "Too trusting. How often has that come back to bite us in the past? You know it'd be damn near impossible for a little girl to make it on her own."

"Maybe she wasn't on her own," Alvin objected. "She could'a been with someone else. She looked confused when we mentioned him... I don't think she even knows who he is."

"Even if that's true," Rebecca pressed. "What do we do now? We don't know her, and we have enough problems taking care of our own people…" She rested a hand on her round stomach for emphasis. "We're gonna have a baby soon, Alvin."

"I know."

"And that's gonna be a lot to deal with," Rebecca continued. "If this girl doesn't die of infection, she's gonna need a lot of help to recover, and she'll be at a serious disadvantage. Losing a leg is a big fuckin' deal, alright? We'd have to constantly look after her."

"We can't just abandon her," Alvin protested. "She'd be as good as dead!"

"What if she already is?" Rebecca snapped. "She won't be able to run, and that's what saves your life in this world."

"Bec, she's a _kid_ ," Alvin's voice took on a pleading note. "I can't stand by and watch another kid die. I just _can't_."

"You might not have a choice..." Rebecca's face softened. "I'm sorry, but she's a lost cause, Alvin. We have to focus on our family. We can't be responsible for every sob story we come across."

"So what, you think we should cut her loose?" Alvin asked bitterly.

"Yes," Her tone was unwavering. "As soon as she wakes up."

"Good luck convincing the others, then," Alvin muttered. "They're not gonna go for it."

"Which is why I need you to be with me on this," Rebecca insisted. "Carlos doesn't seem to trust her either, and the three of us could probably convince Pete. And if he agrees, Luke and Nick will have no choice but to follow."

"And what kind of person would that make me, Bec?" Alvin demanded. "How could I ever be a good father if I help condemn this girl to death?"

"This isn't the first time we've had to make a tough decision," Rebecca pointed out. "We don't exactly have the best track record with this kind of situation. We can't keep making the same mistakes. Sooner or later, our luck will run out."

Alvin sighed heavily, closing his eyes. He didn't want this. They had to do whatever it took to survive, he knew that, but he was a firm believer in helping those who needed it, whenever you could. They couldn't lose sight of that.

And she was just a kid…

"Alvin."

He looked up and met his wife's eyes.

"You have to let her go."

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Clementine thought she was seeing things at first._

_The shape in the distance couldn't be a car. It had to be a rock formation, or a clump of bushes. Why would there be a car in the middle of the woods? It didn't make sense._

_But there it was._

_A dinky yellow car, abandoned in the middle of nowhere. One of the tail lights was shattered, and it had lost the rear view mirror on the passenger's side, a scrap of fabric stuck on the jagged edge. The windshield was cracked and splattered with dark, dried blood. It seemed empty, but Clementine knew better than to assume._

_Quietly, she crept up to the side of the car, peering in though the dirty window._

_It was unoccupied. Clementine breathed a sigh of relief. This could be a safe place to spend the night, as long as it wasn't locked…_

_She tried the door, and it swung open with a groan._

_Clementine clambered inside and pulled the door shut behind her. It was significantly warmer than outside. She tested the door locks, relieved to find they still worked. The interior smelled old, the dashboard littered with crumpled newspapers and stains._

_But it was safe._

_She rummaged around for anything she could scavenge. The glove box was empty, and the floor of the car was sprinkled with trash. However, she did find a plastic bag full of strange green plants. She had a sneaking suspicion she knew what it was and decided to leave it be._

_Clementine crawled into the back seat, her wet clothes sticking to the leather upholstery. She fished her lighter out of her jean pocket and flicked it experimentally._

_A small flame burst into existence. It wasn't very bright, wavering with her breath, but when she held her fingers close she could feel its heat. Her hands had gotten startlingly pale; almost blue, in fact, and she was grateful for the flame's meager warmth. It would take a while to defrost all her fingers, but at least she wouldn't have to lose them._

_Clementine had finally caught a break, which made her more nervous than it should have._

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Pete watched the sun rise lazily over the horizon.

The sky was pale; a gray-blue so light it was almost white. The forest was beginning to wake up, birds chirping and trees rustling as squirrels raced through their branches. He heard the occasional walker in the distance, but there were always walkers in the woods. They rarely came near the quiet cabin, more preoccupied with the forest full of noises.

With a sweep of his arm, he shaved another length of bark off the branch he was whittling into a walking cane for Clementine. He figured it was the least he could do for the kid, considering all that'd happened. The branch was sturdy, and just the right length for someone her height. At the very least, it had given him something to do while out on watch.

Stripped of its bark, the cane had turned a pleasant shade of cream, and was smooth to the touch. Pete tucked his whittling knife back into his pocket and stood, stretching his arms above his head until his back popped.

He didn't mind night watch as much as some of the others. It was nice to have some time to himself every now and then, and the porch was pretty sheltered from the cold wind. But it was time get everyone up and moving. They had plenty of things to do.

Pete stepped into the cabin, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Nick and Luke had both fallen asleep, much to his amusement. They were sprawled in the two armchairs sitting next to each other, Nick's legs draped across Luke's, whose head was thrown back over the armrest, a trail of drool dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.

It reminded Pete of when they were younger, when Luke would stay the night almost every other day. They always stayed up late, and he'd find them like this in the morning, splayed across the sofa in an unruly pile of skinny limbs. They used to stay like that until noon, dead to the world. The thought brought a tender smile to his face, though he banished it quickly. They weren't kids anymore, he reminded himself.

"Wake up, boys!"

Pete was unable to suppress a grin as the young men jolted awake, Nick thudding to the floor with a yelp of surprise. Luke bolted upright, his eyes wide and alert.

"Pete? What happened? What's going…?" He squinted at the light filtering in through the windows. "It's morning? We fell asleep?"

"Yep," Pete leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. "You're lucky Clementine didn't turn in the middle of the night, or you would've been in store for a much more rude awakening." His mood had sobered by the end of his sentence, and he fixed them with a stern look.

"Aw, fuck," Nick pushed himself up, rubbing at his eyes. "Sorry Uncle Pete, we didn't mean to."

"I know," Pete amended. "It was a rough night. How's she been?" He asked, casting a glance over at the unconscious amputee.

"Well, she's still in rough shape, but she looks better than she did before," Luke noted, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's woken up a couple of times, but never for more n' a minute. What've you got there?"

"Oh, this?" Pete ran his thumb over the walking cane's smooth surface. "Figured she's gonna need a way to get around, and we're hard-pressed for wheelchairs, so…"

"That's smart." Luke said. They both looked impressed by his forethought.

"It pays to think ahead," Pete agreed. "Or you'll find yourself up the creek without a paddle."

Pete took every opportunity he could to depart some of his wisdom to them. Whenever they would listen, anyways. They might not be kids anymore, but they were still young, and he wanted to provide them with the knowledge they would need to survive, should something happen to him.

"Good, you're all up."

Carlos appeared at the top of the stairs, looking like he'd just woken up. It was obvious the doctor hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep; his wavy hair stood up in tousled chunks and his tired eyes were ringed with dark circles.

"What's up, Carlos?" Luke asked, visibly concerned.

"I think we need to go upstairs and have a discussion about our guest," Carlos glanced over at Clementine. "We have to decide what we're going to do about her."

"What d'you mean? There's only one thing we _can_ do, and it's take care of her!" Luke objected. "It's our fault she ended up bitten in the first place, we have to-"

"Please, just come upstairs," Carlos said wearily. "We all have to agree on this."

"Let's just go talk about it." Pete agreed, giving the two a warning look.

"Yeah, Luke, we'll figure it out." Nick supplied, clapping his friend on the shoulder before heading upstairs.

"Alright, fine…" Luke muttered.

On his way to the stairs, he passed by the couch and paused for a moment. Luke took one of the blankets folded on one of the arm chairs and carefully draped it over Clementine's sleeping form, a tender expression on his face.

Pete could tell this discussion would not go smoothly.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_Clementine blinked into consciousness._

_It took her a couple seconds to remember why she was stuffed into the backseat of a car. She craned her neck up to look through the car's window, listening intently for any activity outside. She wanted to make sure there weren't any walkers lurking nearby before making her presence known._

_Hearing nothing, Clementine slowly sat up, glancing around. Sunlight filtered in through the car's filthy windows. It was around midday, based on the sun's position in the sky._

_Her clothes had dried rock hard, and all her muscles were sore from the events of the previous day. There was a deep ache in her rib cage from all the abuse she'd suffered, but the bottom line was she was alive._

_With a yawn, she stretched her arms out, her whole body stiff from sleeping in such a cramped position. As safe as this car was, she had to get going. She had to find Christa, and make sure she was okay. Besides the fact, her stomach was beginning to growl. She needed to find some food._

_She gave the car one final sweep to make sure she hadn't missed anything, but all she found were scratched CDs and empty chip bags. She'd have to search somewhere else. Reluctantly, she climbed back out of the car. It had been a stroke of good luck to find it, but it was out of gas, and she couldn't drive, anyways._

_Clementine bid the car farewell and headed back into the trees._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of amputation, animal death, violence, language, blood, and gore.

_Clementine wasn’t sure how long she’d been wandering the forest._

_It was warmer than the day before, at least, but the gray sky still held potential for rain. The tall pines blocked out the wind; she could hear it howling among the higher branches. Once night fell, the temperature would drop again, and then she’d be in trouble._

_She hadn’t found any sign of Christa. She didn’t even know where their camp was. She just had to hope Christa was looking for her, and that they’d find each other in this massive forest._

_If Christa was even alive…_

_Clementine shook her head, quickly banishing the thought. She couldn’t think like that. Christa was probably fine; she’d survived worse situations. Two stupid bandits were no match for her. Christa was clever, and resourceful, and stronger than she appeared. And when Clementine had last seen her, she’d gotten a hold of one of their guns._

_She tried to remember if she’d heard any gunshots while fleeing the scene. The man pursuing her had fired at her, but that was it. That means they couldn’t have shot Christa. She had to have gotten away._

_Now, they just had to find each other again._

_Clementine wasn’t going to give up. After all, Lee had found her in the vast city of Savannah, and she’d found Omid and Christa afterwards. She just had to stay focused and keep an eye out for any sign of her caretaker._

_Her feet continued aimlessly down the trail she’d chosen to follow. It might’ve been a jogging path, once upon a time. The forest was only just beginning to reclaim the trial, with grass inching its way across; most of the dirt path was clear, which indicated it had been used frequently in its heyday. It had to lead to somewhere._

_A bird in a nearby tree gave a cry of alarm and flapped off._

_Clementine paused, listening intently. She could faintly hear leaves crunching under soft footsteps, and the sound of someone’s breathing getting closer. Her mind raced through the list of possible suspects; no growling, so it wasn’t a walker. They were being quiet; they didn’t want her to know they were there. It couldn’t be Christa, because if Christa knew she was there she would’ve called out to her by now. One of the bandits, then?_

_Heart pounding, Clementine turned to face the direction the sounds were coming from, every muscle tense and ready to bolt._

_A dog emerged from the underbrush, ears laid flat against its skull. It was emaciated, its ribs clearly visible through its mottled sandy fur. It regarded her carefully, its dark eyes locking onto hers, and growled deep in its throat._

_It wore a thin blue collar with a rusted tag. Someone had owned this dog at one point. It couldn’t be completely feral, then._

_Clementine weighed her options._

_She’d heard somewhere that kneeling down to a dog’s level made you less of a threat. She didn’t know if that would gain the dog’s trust or give it more incentive to attack her. But if she tried to scare it off, it might decide to defend itself. The dog seemed indecisive as well, circling around her slowly. Either it’d had a bad experience with a human recently, or it thought she was a walker._

_She decided to take a chance. Clementine crouched down and extended her hand towards the dog._

_“Hey there,” She said in the friendliest voice she could muster. “Here, puppy, come here!”_

_The effect was instantaneous._

_The dog’s ears perked up, its tail beginning to wag. It trotted over to her, pushing its wet nose into her palm and whining insistently._

_“Good dog!” Clementine couldn’t hold back her smile, delicately taking the dog’s tag in her hand. The rusted metal tag simply read ‘Sam’. That meant it was a boy, unless it was short for Samantha…_

_“Good boy, Sam!” She decided. The dog yapped in response._

_Sam was a handsome dog. He had a dignified, pointed muzzle and deep brown eyes. His ears and tail were uncropped, and what little mass he had on him was lean muscle. She wasn’t sure what breed he was, but he didn’t look like a mix._

_With a sharp bark, Sam pulled away and padded a little ways off into the trees, looking back at her expectantly._

_She stood up and peered in the direction the dog seemed to want to go. The forest was thick, and she couldn’t see any immediate reason to go that way.  
Sam barked again, his ears pointed and alert. Clementine sighed, unable to suppress a small smile. She’d never had a dog, but she’d always loved their friendly and curious personalities. Maybe whatever Sam wanted her to see would be important._

_“Alright, boy,” She relented. “Let’s go see what you want to show me.”_

_Yapping excitedly, Sam turned and trotted off into the woods, with Clementine in tow._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“Well, Carlos? Get on with it.”

Luke leaned against the wall of Alvin and Rebecca’s bedroom, his arms crossed.

Carlos had called a group meeting, which Luke never really enjoyed. He already knew what Carlos wanted to happen. He also knew where Rebecca stood on the subject. She’d made her opinion explicitly clear. And if Alvin agreed with her, there was nothing he could say to change their minds.

As the youngest members of the group, Luke and Nick often got outvoted. The meeting was more of a formality, to uphold the illusion of democracy. Carlos wasn’t going to stay open-minded about this. When it came down to it, he’d just do what he wanted anyways.

“Alright then,” Carlos raised an eyebrow, his tone neutral. “I’m sure you all know what this is about. Clementine’s fever has broken, which means she isn’t infected and is not going to turn in the near future. Now I believe it is the time for action.”

“Okay, what do you think we should do, then?” Alvin asked.

“Her leg is going to be an obvious setback,” Carlos began. “She isn’t in any danger of turning right now, but that wound could easily get infected without being cleaned and redressed frequently. She’d also need antibiotics, and painkillers, I expect. If it gets infected, it could quickly become fatal. We can barely provide for our own group as it is; we simply don’t have the supplies to care for such an injury.”

“So what, we just kick her out and let her fend for herself?” Luke demanded.

“That’s bullshit,” Nick agreed. “She wouldn’t last a minute.”

“We know nothing about this girl,” Rebecca argued. “We have no idea who she is, or who she might be with. She’s only gonna cause problems. You remember what happened the _last_ time we let a stranger into the group.”

“Of course we fuckin’ remember.” Nick growled, his teeth gritted.

“This isn’t like that,” Pete countered. “We caused this to happen by locking her in the shed. It’s our responsibility to look after her, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Alvin agreed. “It was our fault.”

“We put her in the shed, yeah,” Rebecca broke in. “But the walker wouldn’t have gotten in if she hadn’t broken out to sneak into the cabin and steal out stuff.”

“Well, she wouldn’t’ve had to steal our supplies if we had just treated her dog bite from the beginning!” Luke pointed out.

“Look, we can go back and forth all day,” Carlos said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And I know we made a mistake with her, but the bottom line is, she is a stranger to us, and she is dangerous. She isn’t your average kid; somehow, she broke out of the shed, snuck into the cabin, gathered all the supplies she needed, and slipped back out completely unseen and unheard. We drastically underestimated her.”

Alvin glanced away, looking guilty, and Luke made a note to ask him about that later.

“She was scared, alright? Try an’ put yourself in her shoes,” Luke met the eyes of his group. “She was all alone, locked up by a bunch of menacing strangers, with a bad injury that would become fatal within a matter of hours. What else was she supposed t’do?”

“Most scared kids would run _away_ from danger,” Rebecca said stubbornly. “Scared or not, she still broke into our cabin instead of taking the opportunity to get away from us.”

“She knew that if she didn’t do something, her bite would get infected and kill her, she said so herself.” Nick reminded them.

“That doesn’t mean everything is forgiven,” Carlos said. “I don’t trust her; she seems like the survivalist type, only looking out for herself.”

“And what exactly are we doing, then?” Alvin demanded.

“Looking out for our _families._ ” The doctor shot back.

“Alright, that’s enough!” 

Luke was sick of this conversation. The fact that they were still arguing over whether or not to save an eleven-year old amputee was just mind-blowing. They’d been through a lot, yeah, but it didn’t give any of them the excuse to stop caring about other people, especially the ones who needed them most.  
He wasn’t going to roll over and show his belly, not this time. He was going to fight for this, fight for _her._

“We can argue about this ‘til the cabin rots around us, but I’m not changin’ my mind, alright? Clementine _needs_ us, an’ I’m not gonna let her die knowin’ damn good and well that I could’a done somethin’ to stop it. She stays with us, that’s my vote.”

“Me too.” Nick was quick to back him up.

“Well, I vote she goes,” Carlos said. “We can’t take a risk like this again.”

“Yeah, for all we know, she could be with Carver,” Rebecca muttered. “I vote she goes.”

“We can’t abandon her like this,” Alvin said. “I vote she stays with us.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows shot up at her husband; obviously, she’d expected him to agree with her. Quite honestly, Luke had too, but he shot the older man an appreciative smile.

Pete was staring at the floor, his brows creased together in thought. Luke couldn’t read him; the man had one hell of a poker face. He’d liked to think Pete would do the right thing, but he just couldn’t be sure. If he voted for Clementine to leave, they’d be tied, and he, Carlos, and Rebecca would probably make her leave anyways.

“Well,” Pete began, his voice low and raspy. “I don’t think she’s with Carver, but if she was, wouldn’t it make more sense to keep her with us? If we make her leave, she’d go runnin’ back to him and then we’d be screwed.”

Rebecca’s eyes widened, like the thought hadn’t occurred to her. Luke hadn’t considered that possibility, either.

“’Course, that’s assuming she’d live longer than five minutes on her own, which is unlikely,” Pete continued, frowning. “What’s she gonna do in her condition, _crawl_ away from walkers? I’m not that cruel, and I don’t think any of y’all are, either. I vote she stays with us, at least until she’s healed and better adjusted to her situation.”

Luke felt like an enormous weight had dropped from his shoulders, but he repressed his smile. They had a tough road ahead of them. Carlos was shaking his head, and Rebecca’s narrowed eyes didn’t put him at ease, but neither of them was objecting, so for now he was content.

“Okay, so that’s settled, then,” He spoke up first and broke the tense silence. “Clementine’ll stay with us until she’s better. Carlos, I know you don’t agree with this, but would you still be willing to look after her? That wound will need lots of attention.”

“Something tells me I don’t have a choice.” Carlos smiled bitterly. “But yes, I’ll care for her injuries.”

“Thank you.” Luke said, and he really meant it. Carlos would probably get over it quickly; he wasn’t the type to hold a grudge. At least, Luke hoped so.

“Meeting adjourned, then,” Carlos waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Let’s all try and get some rest.”

“Yeah, everyone out,” Rebecca spoke up. “Me and Alvin need to talk.”

The room cleared quickly after that. Luke could guess how the conversation would go, and he didn’t want any part of it. The couple had been in a tough spot lately; Rebecca’s pregnancy seemed to be causing a lot of stress for the soon-to-be parents. 

Luke caught Nick by the arm on their way out. “Hey, thanks for backing me up there.” He said.

“No sweat, man,” Nick returned his smile. “You’ve always looked out for me. I’d be a shitty friend if I didn’t do the same.”

“Do you think it’s the right thing to do?” He asked, his voice dropping. 

“Well, yeah, but it’s gonna be hard,” Nick warned him. “She’s in rough shape, and Rebecca could have her baby within the week. It’s gonna be a lot to deal with.”

“It’s gonna be a _hell_ of a lot to deal with,” Luke agreed. “But I’m glad I can count on you.”

“Always, man.” Nick promised, clapping him on the shoulder with a grin.

“I’ll take first watch. You should go try and get some rest.” Luke told him, noting the dark circles under his friend’s eyes.

“You sure, man?” Nick frowned. “You look like you could use some sleep.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Luke assured him. “We can swap out in a couple hours.”

He needed to talk to Clementine. He didn’t want her to wake up alone; she’d be scared, hurt, and confused, and he wanted to minimize the fallout as much as possible. He had no idea how she’d react to all of this. He could only hope she didn’t hate him.

“Alright, then,” Nick said. “See ya in a few.”

“Yep.”

Hard times were coming. There was always unease lingering at the back of his mind. Things had been going a little too well for a little too long, now. Their luck was going to run out, sooner or later, and he had to be prepared. 

They’d all have to be prepared.

>\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

_Clementine pushed low hanging branches out of her face as she struggled to keep up with the excited dog._

_“Hey, wait up, boy!” She panted, nearly tripping over a rock. Whatever Sam wanted her to see had to be urgent, because the tan dog only glanced back at her briefly and gave her an impatient bark before darting once more into the underbrush. Luckily, Sam wasn’t the stealthiest dog, so it wasn’t hard to follow him._

_A small voice in her head reminded her that she had more important things to do than chase a strange dog through the woods all day. She really needed to find Christa, but she was reluctant to leave Sam’s company. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a dog alive…_

_And besides, it was better than being alone._

_Sam had stopped up ahead at the edge of a small clearing, his ears perked and alert. Clementine came to a halt beside him, her eyes sweeping over the scene before them.  
It looked like a campsite. There was a small fire pit dug out in the middle of the clearing, flanked by two ratty tents and an old van. There was a trash can to her left, overflowing with so much that all sorts of garbage littered the ground. _

_Sam was sending mixed signals, his body tense and anxious but his tail wagging. He looked up and gave her a quiet yip before trotting into the clearing, his nose to the ground._

_At a first glance, there wasn’t anything useful in the campsite, but Clementine knew better than to assume. Glancing around, she checked her surroundings quickly, in case anything was trying to sneak up on her, but the trees were silent._

_Satisfied that nothing was creeping up on her, she began her search._

_The pot above the fire pit held nothing but muddy water. The tents were empty and practically worthless; one of them wasn’t even standing. Its fabric was shredded and splattered with dried blood, and the rusted spikes poked out of the ground like weeds._

_The van held only the usual finds; an old doll, some scraps of paper, a broken pencil, and a couple food wrappers. There was a photograph in the front seat that caught her attention._

_It was a family of four; a man, a woman, a little girl, and a dog that could only be Sam. The dog was younger, it seemed, still in the thralls of puppy-hood, but instantly recognizable. Gingerly, she set the photo back down. Mementos like that weren’t hers to keep._

_Sam had sat down at some point a few feet away, watching her expectantly, his head tilted to the side._

_“You guys were a happy family, once, huh?” She said softly._

_She had never really thought about pets before, about what happened to them. She’d seen a few dead animals, torn to shreds on the side of the road, but she saw just as many people like that. To see a live dog, still waiting around for its family to come back, tugged on her heartstrings. She studied Sam’s dark brown eyes and wondered just how much he understood about the world._

_“Is this all you wanted to show me?” She asked. Sam still looked tense, not as relaxed as he should have been in his own home. With a light yap, the dog stood abruptly and padded off a ways, towards a tree near the edge of the clearing._

_Clementine followed him, her own body growing tense despite herself._

_There was a walker; tied to the tree’s trunk with a thick cord. It was an old one, its clammy grey skin peeling off and rotting. She could see where the bite had been; there was a pocket knife stuck into its upper arm, flies buzzing around the open wound._

_She couldn’t tell if it had been the man from the photo or not. Once they began to decompose, they all looked the same. Sam was standing stiffly beside her, his ears laid flat and his hackles raised._

_“Looks like he tried to cut it out,” She told him, gesturing towards the walker’s bite. Her expression darkened. “But that never works.”_

_Clementine knew Sam wasn’t going to respond, but it was nice to have an excuse to talk out loud._

_“I wonder if he did that to himself,” She mused, eyeing the cord trapping the walker to the tree. “Or if someone else made him do it.”_

_The walker came to life without warning, making her jump. It snapped at them, reaching out with its mottled hands, but the cord held fast. Sam growled deep in his throat beside her._

_“It’s okay,” She told the dog soothingly. “He can’t reach us.”_

_It was true; the undead monster strained against its bonds, but it wasn’t going anywhere. She needed a way to get rid of it, without getting too close. That pocket knife would probably come in handy, as well. Looking around, she could see a large branch that seemed fairly sturdy. She bent over and scooped it up, testing the weight in her hand._

_“We just have to be careful,” She murmured. “We’re smarter than them.”_

_Hefting the branch over her shoulder, Clementine cast Sam a sideways glance._

_“You might want to get back.” She gently nudged the dog back with her foot, out of harm’s way. Sam retreated a few steps, watching her with wary eyes._

_She widened her stance, took a deep breath, and swung. The branch connected with the walker’s skull with a heavy thud. Dark blood splattered her face, and she scrunched her nose up in distaste. The corpse was still alive, looking dazed by the assault, its arms still reaching out to grab her. Even as their life slipped away, all they thought about was their next meal._

_Clementine brought the branch down again with a grunt of effort. The skull split open with a loud crack that echoed around the clearing. The walker was still alive but barely moving, gurgling deep in its throat._

_One more._

_She hit it again, harder. The branch hit its mark, smashing down on the walker’s vulnerable brain. There was a gross squishing sound, and Clementine let the branch fall from her hands as she caught her breath. It was finally dead._

_She turned and gave Sam a reassuring smile. “See?” She said. “Easy.”_

_Sam had relaxed, his head cocked to the side and his tail thumping heavily on the forest floor._

_“Aw, is that all you wanted, boy?” She asked, reaching forward and wrenching the pocket knife free from the walker’s arm. “This guy won’t bother you anymore.”_

_The blade was slightly warped but still sharp. She wiped it off on her pant leg, smearing the fabric with dark blood, and tucked the small knife into her pocket, feeling much better now that she had some way to defend herself. All she needed now was something to eat…_

_As she made her way back towards the campsite, something bright green caught her eye._

_It was a Frisbee, a plastic throwing disc. She stooped over and picked it up, turning it over in her hands. There was a tiny crack on the disc’s rim and it was spotted with dirt, but overall it was in pretty good condition._

_Sam had followed her over, his dark eyes focused on the toy with interest. Clementine got an idea._

_“Hey, boy, wanna play?” She asked, waving the disc around. “Wanna play catch?”_

_The dog yapped, his tail swishing back and forth in the air. Taking that as confirmation, she turned and threw the disc with a smooth flick of her wrist. Sam sprang after it, leaping in the air and twisting gracefully to catch the disc in his mouth. The dog dropped lightly to the floor and padded back to her, dropping the toy at her feet expectantly._

_“Good boy!” She praised him, picking up the disc._

_They played for a few more minutes. Sam was a pro; Clementine suspected he might’ve competed, before. And even though there was absolutely no reason to be wasting time playing Frisbee, she found herself throwing it every time Sam brought it back to her. It had been a long time since she’d had fun._

_Eventually, one of her throws went a little too far and the disc disappeared into the tree line. Sam stared at the forest and whined, reluctant to chase after it. She understood the feeling all too well; the forest had been a dangerous place as of late._

_“Oh, well,” She sighed. “It was fun while it lasted. I probably shouldn’t be wasting energy anyways.”_

_Her stomach was growing more and more impatient. There was one more place she hadn’t searched yet._

_Approaching the trash can, Clementine forced down her disgust and rolled up her sleeves. This was always her least favorite part._

_“Okay, Clementine,” She told herself. “This isn’t anything you haven’t done before. Just get it over with.”_

_Holding her breath, she began to rummage through the garbage, tossing aside crumpled newspapers and empty bottles. More than once, her fingers brushed something distasteful, and she resisted the urge to gag. After a few moments of searching, she was rewarded for her efforts with an unopened can of beans._

_Breathing a sigh of relief, she retreated a few steps to a log resting in front of one of the old tents and sat down on a log, pulling her knife from her pocket._

_“Please don’t be bad...” She whispered. With a silent prayer, she dug her pocket knife into the lid and worked it open. The beans inside looked perfectly fine, and a quick sniff test  
confirmed there wasn’t any rotting or mold. “Thank god.” She breathed._

_Clementine began to eat, ignoring the fact that her hands were probably filthy. The beans were cold and flavorless, but it was food, and she couldn’t be more grateful._

_Sam had sat down in front of her, his head tilted to the side pathetically. He whined, one of his ears flopped over in the very picture of innocence._

_“Don’t beg,” She scolded lightly. “It doesn’t suit you.” She tried to ignore him and keep eating, but guilt was already beginning to gnaw at her. Sam whimpered again, and her resolve crumbled._

_“I guess you’re pretty hungry too, huh boy?” She sighed. “Alright, hold on a second.”_

_Clementine scooped out a handful of beans to give to him. In a flash, Sam rushed forward, knocking the can out of her hands with his muzzle. The dog wasted no time and began scarfing down the food._

_“Hey, don’t eat all of it!” She protested, leaning over to pick the can up._

_There was no warning. Sam lunged for her neck, teeth bared in a snarl._

_Her quick reflexes were all that kept the dog from ripping out her throat. Her arm flew up to protect her neck, and Sam’s teeth locked around her forearm. Her nerves exploded with pain, and with a strangled scream, she fell to the ground under the dog’s sudden weight._

_Sam clamped down on her arm, growling savagely in his throat, and shook his head madly, her blood splattering the forest floor. She punched the side of his face with her other hand, but the dog wouldn’t let go._

_Clementine drew her legs in and kicked the dog in the stomach as hard as she could. His teeth were ripped free from her arm, taking a good chunk of flesh with them. Her kick sent the dog reeling backwards, stumbling over the log. There was a horrible tearing sound, and then nothing but her own panicked breathing._

_With a cry of pain, she stood up on shaky legs, expecting the dog to come leaping over the log to attack her again, but there was nothing. She fumbled for her pocket knife, brandishing it out in front of her as she crept towards where Sam had fallen._

_The dog was impaled on the tent spikes, the rusted metal poles poking out of his leg, stomach, and chest. He was still alive, his eyes rolled back and his muzzle stained with her blood. His legs were scraping at the ground, his breathing labored and uneven, and she knew there was only one thing she could do._

_Kneeling carefully at his side, Clementine slit the dog’s throat with her pocket knife. Sam let out a high-pitched whine, and then there was silence._

_Tears streamed freely down her face, and Clementine swallowed the scream rising in her throat._

_Her arm was in bad shape. The bite had broken skin and torn muscle, her blood staining her skin red. Her whole arm was throbbing with pain, and it would be all too easy to get an infection. If left untreated, this would become fatal._

_Gingerly, she rolled her sleeve down over the injured arm, gritting her teeth against the pain._

_**What am I going to do?** _

_Clementine sniffed once, choked back her sobs, and trudged back into the cover of the trees._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is late because I went out of town. I managed to get Chapter Five posted on my FF account, but not here. (Sorry!) So here's a double update to make up for it. ALSO: Does anyone know how to insert a line break? I'm still new to the Archive and any help would be greatly appreciated! - Aqua
> 
> Warnings for this chapter: Violence, language, and child endangerment.

_It had finally started raining._

_Clementine bowed her head against the downpour, wrapping her arms around herself. It was cold. Her clothes were soaked through in a matter of minutes, and her fingers were growing numb. Every step was harder than the last._

_Her arm was throbbing, pulsing with her heartbeat, and it hurt like hell. Her body was starting to shut down, her vision going in and out of focus, and the pounding in her head wouldn’t go away._

_Hopelessness was starting to creep up on her, tears welling in her eyes. Her situation was desperate, but she couldn’t give up now, not after everything she’d been through. She had to keep going, had to find Christa._

_But she was so tired…_

_There was an outcrop of rock up ahead, and Clementine stumbled towards it, her legs finally giving out. She slumped against the smooth stone, curling into a tight ball. She couldn’t stop shivering, and she was close to breaking, her tears threatening to fall and her lip trembling._

_Clementine closed her eyes, tucking her injured arm close to her chest. She just needed to catch her breath…_

_There was a growl in the distance._

_Her eyes shot open and she waited; every muscle tense. She scanned her surroundings through the mist of rain and saw the all-too familiar silhouette of a walker. Forcing down the panic rising in her throat, she pushed herself up, her body screaming in protest._

_There were more walkers, seemingly appearing out of thin air. They had seen her._

_Clementine forced herself to move, her heart racing. Her legs weren’t listening; she didn’t have the energy to run. The rain had made the ground slick, and she fought for every step. Everywhere she turned, there were walkers, shuffling towards her with outstretched hands._

_She looked around desperately for a way out, but she couldn’t see any. She ducked under a walker’s reaching arm and pressed on, a scream lodged in her throat._

_They were everywhere._

_Her foot slipped out from under her, and she fell hard with a cry of pain. This was it; this was the end. She was going to die out here, alone. She braced herself for death, for the feeling of teeth ripping into her throat, tearing at her flesh-_

_A walker thudded to the ground, an arrow lodged in its skull. Clementine stared at it, uncomprehending._

_“Grab her, and let’s go!” A gruff, raspy voice came from her left. She could hear the mechanical click of a crossbow firing._

_“C’mon, kid, we gotta move!” There was another voice; a younger one, with a Southern lilt, and suddenly she was being lifted up in strong arms as walkers fell around them._

_Her mind immediately went into panic mode; she didn’t know these people. But she didn’t have the energy to fight, and if they were saving her, they couldn’t be all bad. Her vision finally swam into focus, and she looked up at her would-be savior as she was carried away from the walkers._

_He was a young man, somewhere around his mid-to-late twenties, with wavy brown hair and wide, expressive eyes. She took careful note of the machete strapped to his back and the gun at his hip, reminding herself to be wary._

_The man’s companion was older than him by at least twenty years. His gray hair was shorn close to his head, his face rough and unshaven. He was carrying the crossbow that had saved her life, along with a pistol, tucked neatly into his waistband. Despite his age, he was keeping up well, showing no signs that the running was difficult for him._

_Clementine had a feeling these survivors were a grade above the kind she and Christa usually encountered. They were well-armed and in good condition, which only made them even bigger threats, especially considering how poor she was doing._

_The rain had stopped. They ran for a couple minutes in silence, the sound of the walkers fading behind them, before slowing to a walk. They didn’t even need to catch their breath, she noted, when such a sprint would’ve left her drained._

_The man carrying her caught her eye and gave her a reassuring smile._

_“Hey, there, close call, huh?” He said kindly. “I’m Luke.”_

_“I’m Pete.” The older man added._

_“Are you alright?” Luke asked. “How’d you end up in the woods all alone?”_

_Clementine hesitated, scanning their faces for dishonesty. She couldn’t understand why they would save her. Out of the goodness of their hearts? No, there had to be an ulterior motive._

_“P-please, I- just let me go,” She hated how pathetic and small her voice sounded, but she had reached her breaking point. “I just w-want to find my friend.”_

_Her answer seemed to deeply worry the two men. Pete was studying her with a frown. Luke knit his brows together, confused._

_“Hey, listen, we’re not gonna hurt you, alright? See, we have a doctor, he can take a look at you.” Luke told her. He spoke gently, like he was talking to a spooked animal._

_“We just want to help,” Pete said. “Couldn’t leave you here in good conscious, and no offense, but you look like you’ve been through a lot.”_

_Clementine made a noncommittal noise, weighing her options. They had a doctor. Her arm desperately needed attention. Should she tell them? Were they telling the truth? Why did they want to help her?_

_“So what’s your name, if you don’t mind me askin’?” Luke interrupted her thoughts._

_“Um…” She didn’t see any reason to lie about her name. “It’s Clementine.”_

_“Clementine. Now that’s a real nice name.” Pete said politely._

_“The cabin isn’t too far, now,” Luke added. “You can rest up, leave in the mornin’ if you like- fuck!”_

_He dropped her suddenly, jumping back._

_“The hell, Luke?”_

_“She’s bit. Shit, she’s bitten, Pete.”_

_“Fuck... what’re we gonna do?”_

_Clementine pushed herself into a sitting position, drawing her injured arm close to her chest. Her shirt sleeve must’ve gotten pushed up; they thought she was bitten by a walker. Her heart started to race._

_“No, it was a dog!” She told them. “Just a dog.”_

_“I didn’t see any dog, Clementine.” Pete said, his face severe._

_“He didn’t- it didn’t bite me here,” She explained. “It happened somewhere else.”_

_“Really?” Luke didn’t seem convinced._

_“It’s true!” She insisted. “Look, see for yourself.” She held her arm out for them to inspect._

_“I’m not getting’ anywhere near a lurker bite.” Luke said, taking a step back._

_“Alright, let me see,” Pete heaved a sigh, approaching Clementine cautiously. He took her arm gently, squinting at the bloody bite marks. “Could’a been a dog,” He mused. “Hard to say. But either way, that looks infected.”_

_“No, it’s not infected, it just needs help,” Clementine said, ignoring how her whole body felt feverish and the way her arm was throbbing. “Once it’s cleaned, it’ll heal, and then there’s no infection. No problem, right?”_

_“Now, can you tell me what exactly happened, then?” Pete asked, his tone serious._

_“I was in the woods, looking for my friend,” She began. “We were separated when bandits attacked our camp. I came across a dog, and it bit me, so I killed it.”_

_“What?” Luke spoke up suddenly. “You find some random dog in the woods, and you just kill it?”_

_“It attacked me!” She protested._

_“Still! You don’t- you don’t kill dogs, alright?”_

_Clementine fought the urge to roll her eyes._

_“It wasn’t a love nip, Luke. It was trying to kill me. I didn’t have any other choice.” Her voice dropped an octave by the end of her sentence, and she looked away, the unpleasant memories replaying in her mind._

_Luke folded his arms, still looking uncomfortable._

_“Clementine,” Pete said quietly. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re tellin’ the truth?”_

_“Yes.” She met his eyes easily. He studied her face for a few more seconds before shrugging._

_“Alright, works for me,” Pete straightened, looking expectantly at Luke. “Let’s get moving.”_

_“What? You believe her, just like that?”_

_“I’ve got a pretty good bullshit detector, Luke,” Pete responded. “That’s why you can never beat me at poker.”_

_“Well, I’m not carrying her with that bite,” Luke said firmly. He caught her eyes and his features softened. “It’s not that far.” He added, not unkindly._

_Clementine grit her teeth and stood. They must have noticed how hard it was for her. Now they would be looking for any other signs of infection, signs that she needed to be put down. She couldn’t let that happen._

_“I’m fine.” She said stubbornly._

_But as they walked, she could feel her strength draining away, her head getting lighter as her limbs were filled with pins and needles. Pete and Luke’s small talk faded away until she could only hear the blood rushing in her ears._

_They broke out of the trees into a large clearing. She could make out the shape of a cabin, the yellow light flooding out of its windows blurring together._

_“Here we are,” Luke was saying. “Now we can- are you okay, Clementine?”_

_“Yeah, m’ fine…” She slurred, swaying on her feet. The world tilted, and her stomach dropped. “D’nt worry…”_

_The ground rushed up to meet her._  
~  
Sarah hadn’t meant to leave her room.

When she’d heard all the grown-ups gather in Alvin and Rebecca’s room for a meeting, her first thought was to stay put. Her dad would tell her everything later.

But then she’d heard them. The walls weren’t very thick, and they weren’t exactly being quiet. They were fighting. She didn’t like fighting. Dad always looked older after they fought; his lips pressed tightly, the skin under his eyes darker, his body slouched and tired. She didn’t like seeing him like that.

She didn’t like hearing them fight, either. And she couldn’t read her book with them shouting. 

Sarah had tucked her paperback under her arm and cracked the door open, peering into the empty hallway. It was early in the morning, so none of the candles were lit. She’d made her way downstairs carefully, mindful of any squeaky steps or creaky floorboards. She didn’t want to bother anyone.

She’d just read her book downstairs, until they were done. The problem was, the living room wasn’t empty.

There was a girl on the couch, curled beneath a blanket so only her face was visible. She was young, probably a few years younger than Sarah, with dark curly hair tucked into a bloody baseball cap. She looked uneasy, her eyebrows drawn together and her mouth moving with soundless words. Her eyes were squeezed shut almost painfully, her long lashes wet with tears.

She was having a nightmare.

Sarah stood frozen by the staircase, torn with indecision. 

She didn’t like having nightmares. Whenever she did, she’d wake up to her dad’s gentle embrace, his strong arms around her, running a soothing hand through her hair until she fell asleep again. If she was having a nightmare, she’d want to be woken up. But she didn’t know this girl. Maybe she wouldn’t like being woken up. Maybe Sarah should go back to her room. (The living room smelled like blood…)

The girl cried out in her sleep, and Sarah’s feet moved of their own accord.

She really shouldn’t wake the girl. She might get into trouble. Her dad didn’t like her wandering through the cabin alone. She should go back to her room and try to read her book, just go back to her book…

The girl might be angry with her. She might be scared or confused, she would, and Sarah should just go back to her room and let someone else deal with it, let one of the grown-ups handle it, like they always did. (They always do.)

And yet, Sarah found herself standing in front of the couch, clutching her book to her chest like a shield. Her eyes flitted over the girl anxiously, her mouth opening and closing in an attempt to speak. She shouldn’t be doing this, she should just leave, go back to her room… she didn’t want to be a bother, but she wanted to help! It was the right thing to do. Sarah had to try and help, didn’t she?

Before she could decide, the girl’s eyes snapped open.  
~  
_Clementine woke up staring at the night sky._

_The ground beneath her was rough, a rock poking into her back. It took her a moment to realize where she was. There were voices all around her; loud, angry, scared, confused… she stifled a groan and tried to move, to speak, but her body wouldn’t respond._

_“-the hell did you think you were doing?”_

_“We had to do something!”_

_“-don’t know anything about her!”_

_“Why would you bring her here-”_

_“-fucking **bitten** -”_

_“We should just shoot her now, get it over with.”_

_“No, wait-”_

_“She said it was a dog.”_

_“Everyone calm down!”_

_Clementine’s vision had finally stopped spinning enough for her to take the scene in. She was surrounded by a loose circle of people, six of them, it seemed, all arguing loudly with each other. She recognized Pete and Luke straight away. Maybe they would help her. Clementine tried to sit up and get their attention._

_**BANG** _

_A gun fired dangerously close to her, a bullet brushing past her shoulder. All her breath rushed out of her in a strangled gasp._

_The clearing was silent for a moment._

_“Finger off the trigger, boy!” Pete growled, snatching the offending shotgun from the culprit; a young man with bright blue eyes and dark hair swept back under a baseball cap._

_“The fuck are you doing, Nick?” Someone else demanded. This one was a woman, a heavily pregnant one at that, if her round stomach was anything to go by._

_“Hey, you’re the one telling me to fuckin’ shoot her!” The man, Nick, shot back._

_“Everyone calm down!” Luke repeated forcefully. He glanced down at Clementine, his dark brown eyes filled with concern. “You okay, Clementine?”_

_Swallowing back a cry of pain, she forced herself to stand, her injured arm tucked to her chest. She shrunk under the stranger’s gazes, every muscle tense._

_“Y-yeah,” She managed. “I’m o-okay. My arm…”_

_“Let me take a look.” One of the strangers came forward, a man with a Spanish accent and thick, wavy hair. He knelt in front of her and took her arm gingerly, his intelligent brown eyes studying the wound._

_“It just needs to be cleaned,” She told him. “A-and stitched, and bandaged, or else it’ll get infected.”_

_“What do you think, Carlos?” There was a large man standing next to the pregnant woman, his voice low and rumbling. He had kind eyes, and was watching her with concern, not distrust. “Was it a dog?”_

_“I’m not sure, it’s hard to tell,” The doctor, Carlos, said. “I’m not wasting supplies on a lurker bite.”_

_“It was a dog, I swear!” Clementine pleaded._

_“We all know what has to happen,” The pregnant woman spoke up again. “There’s only one cure for a lurker bite.”_

_“Well, we could cut it off,” Pete mused, stroking his chin. “Worked for a cousin of mine up North.”_

_Clementine’s eyes widened with alarm._

_“No!” She protested. “It’s just a dog bite!” She looked around desperately, willing them to believe her. She locked eyes with the man beside the woman. “You have to believe me!”_

_“I don’t know, guys, I think she’s tellin’ the truth…” The man said, glancing at the woman next to him._

_“Me too.” Luke chimed in._

_“Oh, come on, Alvin,” The pregnant woman narrowed her eyes. “I don’t buy it.”_

_“Me either,” Nick said. “We should shoot her and be done with it!”_

_“We have to be sure,” Carlos insisted, straightening. “We could put her in the shed, wait until morning. If she hasn’t got a fever by then, we’ll know she isn’t going to turn, and I’ll take care of the wound then.”_

_“But by then it’ll be too late!” Clementine said. “My arm will get infected anyways!”_

_“If you think that’s the right way to go about it…” Alvin said, looking doubtful._

_“What’s the point? We all know what’s gonna happen.” The woman snapped._

_“We don’t know shit, Rebecca,” Pete broke in. “I’m not gonna shoot a little girl for no damn reason. We have to be sure.”_

_“Fine, do what you want,” Rebecca sniped. “I’m not cleanin’ up the mess in the morning.”_

_“We have to be certain,” Carlos said with finality. “I’m sorry, Clementine. Luke, Nick, would you take her to the shed?”_

_“This is bullshit…” Luke muttered. Clementine was inclined to agree._

_“Alright, fine.” Nick snatched his gun back from Pete, who fixed him with a stern look._

_“Keep your finger off that trigger.” He reminded him._

_Nick brushed past him without a word, nudging Clementine impatiently with the butt of his gun._

_“Let’s go.” He griped._

_She had no other choice but to follow Luke towards the shed, Nick’s gun pressed into her back. It was a decent-sized shed, and it smelled old, like the wood was rotting. It didn’t  
help put Clementine at ease._

_“You guys are wrong,” She told them. “You don’t have to do this.”_

_Luke swung the doors open, looking at her sympathetically._

_“Listen, just try and hold out ‘till morning, alright?” He said. “You’ll be safe until then.”_

_Clementine snorted, not believing a word of it. Her arm was going to get infected and kill her, and when they found her reanimated corpse they were going to think they were right all along, that it really had been a walker and that she lied to them. She’d be gone, just like that, and no one would care._

_There was nothing she could do about it._

_Nick’s gun poked her in the back again, and she trudged into the shed, forcing down the panic and hopelessness rising within her._

_The shed doors swung shut with a heavy thud, leaving her in the darkness._  
~  
Clementine woke up.

There was a dull thud ringing in her ears, tears wet on her cheeks, and she wasn’t alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Language, blood, mentions of amputation, and mentions of violence and death.

Clementine found herself staring at an unfamiliar face.

The girl had warm brown eyes the color of hot cocoa; deep and rich in color, and framed by dark lashes and a pair of red glasses. Her burnt sienna complexion was smooth and even, and her thick black hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves.

She stared back at Clementine with wide, frightened eyes, before she took a shuddering gasp. 

_“S-sorry,”_ The girl breathed. “I d-didn’t mean to wake you!”

Clementine vaguely recalled her voice from before. _‘Dad, what’s going on..?’_ So she was Carlos’ daughter, then. She greatly resembled her father, though she lacked his Spanish accent. 

“No, it’s-” Clementine winced at the hoarseness of her voice. How long had she been out? She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s okay, not your fault. What time is it? Where is everyone?”

“Um, sometime in the morning?” The girl guessed, gesturing at the light streaming in through the windows. “The grown-ups are talking upstairs,” She added, glancing at the stairwell. “I-I just came down here to read my book, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clementine sat up, rubbing her eyes. “I’m Clementine.”

“I’m Sarah,” The girl said shyly. “I… I don’t really know what’s going on…”

“They didn’t tell you?” Clementine asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, but I’m sure my dad was going to…” Sarah mumbled. “He’s probably just busy. They’re all fighting about something up there.”

“That’s… probably my fault,” Clementine said, fidgeting uncomfortably. “Not everyone wants me here.”

“Why? What happened?” Sarah asked nervously. “All I know is that it was late, and everyone was shouting and…” She bit her lip, glancing away. “It smells like blood in here.” She said quietly.

Clementine was slowing becoming aware of the pain again. Sarah had taken her by surprise, but everything was coming back to her now. A cold sense of dread settled over her, her chest tightening painfully. She tugged her blanket off in one smooth motion, letting it slide to the floor with a soft thump.

Her breath caught in her throat, tears springing to her eyes as her hands flew to her mouth to stifle a sob.

Her leg was a stump.

Two inches below her right knee, her leg just… _stopped._ The limb was wrapped heavily with blood-soaked bandages, lying motionless on the couch like a dead animal. A horrible sense of _wrongness_ flooded through her, her mind struggling to comprehend the sight before her. A bitter taste filled her mouth and she just _stared_ , her stomach churning.

_“Oh.”_ The small exclamation was ripped from her, all the air in her lungs rushing out, like she’d been punched.

“Clementine…?” Sarah was staring at her leg, eyes wide with horror. “What- w-why is your leg gone? That’s… that’s so _scary!_ ” She sounded absolutely devastated on Clementine’s behalf, her voice tremoring. “A-are you okay?”

The question was a simple one, and though the answer was fairly obvious, Sarah’s intentions were well-intended. Still, Clementine couldn’t stop the laugh that tore from her throat, making Sarah jump.

“I’m _alive._ ” She forced the word between her teeth, feeling triumphant and angry and devastated and scared and defiant all at the same time. “I’m still alive.” 

After everything the world threw at her, she was still breathing. She had endured, but at what cost? What did this mean for her? She couldn’t survive like this, not on her own, not in this world. What was she going to do?

“How did th-this happen?”

Sarah’s voice brought her back from the brink of panic, grounding her, and Clementine brushed her tears away, taking a shuddering breath.

“I was bitten,” She said, her eyes still glued to the stump. “They had to cut my leg off to save my life.”

Clementine explained how she had been saved by Luke and Pete in the woods, who mistook her dog bite for a walker, and how the group decided to lock her in the shed. She described how, in desperation, she’d broken out and snuck into the cabin to steal the supplies she needed. She left out the part about Alvin helping her, though. She didn’t think the rest of the group knew about it, and she didn’t want to throw him under the bus.

“Once I was back in the shed, I stitched my arm back up,” Clementine gestured to the now bandaged arm. “And… I guess I forgot to block the hole back up, and a walker got in…” She shut her eyes, the painful memories washing over her. “I killed it, but not before it bit me. They brought me back in here and cut it off. Luke cut it off.” She corrected herself, her throat tightening at the thought.

“Wow, that’s… _horrible,_ ” Sarah said, her eyes wide. “I-I can’t imagine… do you… need some time alone?”

“No!” Clementine said quickly. After everything that happened, the thought of being alone sent a jolt of panic through her. She hated sounding so desperate and weak, but she right now she needed someone. “I mean… could you stay? Please?”

Sarah was easy to talk to. There was just something about her honest, sympathetic nature that put Clementine at ease. 

“Oh, um, s-sure!” Sarah gave her a hesitant smile. “What do you… do you want to talk about it, or…?”

“No, I need to get my mind off of it.” Clementine said. The panic was threatening to drown her, and she was struggling to keep her head above the surface.

“Okay, well… uh, how about I read you my book..?” Sarah held up the paperback for Clementine to see. The title was an odd one, bold lettering spelling out _‘The Guurgles’_ , but at this point Sarah could read her a newspaper and she’d be content. “It’s a sci-fi drama about trans-dimensional body-snatchers… you might be a little lost, but-”

“No, that’s fine,” Clementine assured her. “I just need to focus on something else.”

“Well, okay then…” Sarah opened the novel to a dog-eared page and began to read.

As expected, Clementine had no idea what was going on, but it was enough just to listen to Sarah’s voice. She could tell Sarah was trying to distract herself as well; the older girl’s eyes flicking towards her stump every so often, but within a few minutes she became lost in the book. Clementine shut her eyes and sank into the couch, emptying her mind of everything except the story Sarah was telling.

“And then suddenly-”

“Sarah?”

Both girls looked up to see Luke, standing by the staircase. His head was tilted to the side, brows furrowed as he took in the scene before him. Clementine bolted upright, her heart beginning to pound. She hadn’t even heard him come downstairs.

“S-sorry!” Sarah stammered, snapping the book shut. “I-I didn’t mean to come downstairs, I just-”

“What are you doin’?” Luke asked.

“I was j-just reading to Clementine,” Sarah explained nervously. “I’m really sorry.”

Luke considered the two of them with something almost akin to wonder, glancing from Sarah to Clementine and back again. Clementine watched him warily, every muscle in her body tense. 

“Well, you’re not in trouble, Sarah, alright?” He reassured her gently. “Your dad’ll probably just be wondering-”

“Sarah, where are you?” Carlos’ voice floated down the stairs.

“Speak of the devil,” Luke muttered, turning to call up the stairs. “She’s down here, Carlos,” He glanced over at Sarah. “You should probably go talk to him.” He said, not unkindly.

“Y-yeah, okay…” Sarah stood to go, and Clementine felt her heart tighten. She caught the older girl by her jacket sleeve.

“You’ll come see me later, won’t you?” She asked, unable to keep a pleading tone from her voice.

“Uh, s-sure,” Sarah managed a smile. “I’ll try, anyways.” 

Clementine returned her smile faintly, her eyes following Sarah until she was out of sight. Her gaze hesitantly turned to Luke, her expression sobering. He rubbed the back of his neck almost sheepishly, clearing his throat to fill the sudden silence.

“You hungry?”

~

Luke handed Clementine a bowl of oatmeal, sitting in the armchair across from her.

He hadn’t known what to think when he came down the stairs and saw Sarah reading to the young girl. She’d looked so at peace, her eyes shut without a trace of fear or pain. He hadn’t really given much thought about how the two girls would feel about each other, and to see them form such an immediate bond was definitely a good sign.

Still, he couldn’t help but feel disheartened. He had noticed how Clementine immediately grew tense when she saw him, the way her golden eyes narrowed and watched him warily throughout the whole conversation, like she expected him to lash out at her.

He couldn’t really blame her. He’d cut off her leg, after all.

Luke could still feel the weight of the axe in his hand; hear the sound of splitting bone. He’d never be able to forget her screams and the spray of blood. He’d hoped she wouldn’t remember that, hoped she would’ve been too far gone at the moment to recall anything later.

It seemed he was wrong.

Even now, as she ate her food, Clementine was watching him out of the corner of her eye. Luke desperately hoped he hadn’t ruined any chance of earning her trust. If she was going to join the group, she’d have to learn to trust them. 

“So, uh, how’re you feeling?” Luke asked.

“Like shit.” Clementine said, her voice clipped.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Luke winced. “If you’d like, I could ask Carlos to give you some painkillers, or-”

“No,” Clementine said quickly. “I don’t want to see him.”

Luke frowned, but he didn’t press. She’d been through a lot, and was probably feeling vulnerable. It made sense for her to have negative feelings about Carlos. He had to remember that she was still just a kid. She was going to need time to heal, both physically and emotionally.

“So, that really was a dog bite, then?” Luke said, gesturing to her bandaged forearm. “I suppose owe you an apology for not believing’ you earlier. I guess I was just paranoid, y’know?”

“I understand.” Clementine replied, not meeting his eyes.

“That was a pretty damn good job you did there, though,” He added. “Stitching it up, I mean. Don’t think I would’a had the guts myself to do something like that.”

Clementine looked up cautiously, her expression guarded. She considered him for a moment. “It was hard.” She admitted, still hesitant, as though she didn’t understand that he was complimenting her.

“I’ll bet,” Luke agreed. “You’re one tough kid, Clementine.”

Her fingers ghosted over the bandages wrapping her arm, the faintest hint of a smile on her face. “Thanks,” She said, unable to hide the pride in her voice. “My friend taught me.”

“So who is this friend of yours? If you don’t mind me askin’, that is.” Luke made sure his tone was neutral, not wanting to sound accusatory. 

Clementine gave him that guarded look again before responding. “Her name is Christa,” She said. “She’s been looking after me for a while. We were both part of a group, but…” She trailed off, something dark clouding her eyes. If Luke had to guess, he’d say things didn’t end well for her previous group.

“And what is Christa like?” He asked gently, changing the subject for her sake.

“She’s brave,” Clementine responded immediately. “And tough. She cares about me a lot, but she doesn’t treat me like a little kid.” There was a hint of a warning in her tone, one that told Luke she wanted to be taken seriously.

“What does she look like?” 

“She’s darker than me, but her hair is lighter, and when it’s not pulled back it goes to her shoulders.” Clementine knit her brows together. “And she’s probably somewhere around your age. She’s taller than average, I think, but she’s really skinny so she just looks smaller. Last I saw her, she was wearing a purplish-gray jacket.”

“Well, we’ll be sure to keep an eye out for her.” Luke assured her.

“No, I need to find her,” Clementine said, her voice suddenly urgent. “I need to know she’s okay-”

“Clementine,” Luke tried to figure out how to handle the situation delicately. “You’re hurt pretty bad, okay? It’s gonna take a while before you’re well enough to even stand. Until then, all of us will be looking for any sign of her, alright?”

Clementine glanced away, clearly frustrated and on the verge of tears. 

“Listen, I know it’s hard, okay, but-”

“Don’t act like you understand what I’m going through, Luke,” She said, her eyes stormy. “You have no idea what I’ve had to do- had to deal with.”

“Do you want to talk about it, then?” Luke asked easily. “I’d be willing to listen.”

Clementine’s eyes grew wide and panicked at the thought. “No,” She backpedaled quickly. “No, no, I just- it’s been so hard, and I- I don’t want-” She sucked in a breath, her eyes welling with tears. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” Luke said soothingly. “You don’t have to-”

“I’m _scared_ , okay?”

Ah. _There_ it was.

Clementine buried her face in her hands, her composure finally crumbling. “I’m so, _so_ scared, a- and I don’t k- know what to do- I can’t _walk_ , and I don’t k- know if I’ll ever find Christa again. And I don’t even _know_ you guys! I-” She broke off, her whole body shaking with sobs.

Luke swallowed the lump in his throat, his chest tightening uncomfortably. He’d always considered himself to be good with kids, but he had absolutely no idea how to comfort her. 

“Uh, Clementine…” He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “I know this all seems overwhelming, but we’re gonna help you through it, alright? We’re not going to hurt you.”

Clementine narrowed her eyes through her tears. “That’s what you said before, remember?” She muttered. “Now I’m missing a leg.”

“Believe me, I never wanted this!” He told her, guilt stabbing through him like a knife. “If I had known what would happen, I-”

“Just forget it,” Clementine sniffed, wrapping her arms around herself. “I don’t really have any other options, anyways…” All her anger vanished suddenly, leaving her haggard, her eyes hollow and weary.

Luke winced, his stomach twisting. He wanted to help her, he really did, but they still had their own group to worry about. He couldn’t expect them to go romping through the woods in search of Clementine’s friend, not so soon after everything had happened. 

“I’m sorry,” He told her again, and really meant it. “I wish there was more I could do…”

Clementine didn’t respond, squeezing her eyes shut as more tears slipped down her face. Luke ran a hand through his hair with a sigh and stood up. The way Clementine tensed at his sudden movement, her eyes snapping open and focusing on him warily, made him feel even worse. She had so little trust in him…

“I’ve got to go keep watch,” Luke explained. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything, okay?”

Clementine’s eyes widened even further, an emotion akin to panic flashing across her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it, pressing her lips together in a thin line.

Luke was thoroughly confused. She was sending mixed signals; it was obvious she didn’t want him around, his mere presence was causing her stress like no other, but the thought of him leaving seemed to worry her even more. 

“Um, if you’d like, I could ask Pete to keep you company?” He offered, unsure of how to handle the situation. “He’s got a present for you, by the way.” 

That seemed to pique her interest. 

“Okay…” Clementine nodded, her voice small. “He won’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Luke assured her. “Pete may be a little rough around the edges, but really he’s a big ‘ol softie.” That earned him a little smile, which he returned in kind before approaching the base of the stairs. “Pete, come down here a sec?” He called.

“Yeah?” The wooden roof shook with heavy footsteps, and Pete’s face appeared at the top of the stairs. “What d’ya need?” He asked.

“Would you mind keeping Clementine here company while I’m out on watch?” Luke asked, gesturing towards their young houseguest. Clementine waved shyly at the older man.

“Not at all,” Pete said warmly, traveling the rest of the way down. “Matter of fact, I’ve got something for you,” He told her, his features adopting a conspiratorial look. “Be right back.” Pete ducked into the kitchen, leaving the two of them alone.

“Well, I guess I’ll leave ya to it,” Luke said. “I’m right outside if you need anything, alright?”

“Okay…” Clementine said quietly, avoiding his gaze. 

Luke tried not to feel hurt. It was going to take a lot of time for Clementine to feel comfortable around them, and he had to be patient with her. He didn’t even know if she was going to want to stay with them, once she was healthy again. How had he gotten so attached so damn quickly?

“See ya.” Luke offered her one last smile before stepping outside, sucking in a much needed breath of fresh air.

This was going to be a hell of a lot harder than he’d thought.

~ 

“So what were you doing downstairs, Sarah?”

Sarah sat on the bed across from her dad, absentmindedly stroking the pages of her book. She could see her dad was stressed, but he wasn’t angry with her. He never really got   
angry with her, unless she did something that was dangerous, like going outside alone or touching one of their guns. 

“Well, I was just trying to read my book, but you guys were… you were fighting, and- and I don’t _like_ fighting, so I went downstairs to read,” Sarah explained. “I didn’t know Clementine was down there, I promise!”

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders slumping even more.

“I’m sorry you heard us arguing,” He told her. “And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Clementine sooner. You were already asleep when I came up last night, and…” He sighed. “I was going to tell you.”

“I know.” She said easily. Dad would never lie to her, he wouldn’t hide things from her. 

“Things are just... complicated right now, okay?” Dad said. “It was a tricky situation, and we didn’t handle it the way we should’ve. Clementine has to stay with us until she is better.”

“But…” Sarah bit her lip. “Her leg… how can she get better? It’s- she can’t get it back…”

“No, she can’t,” Dad agreed. “She’s going to have to learn to live without it.”

“That’s so scary.” Sarah whispered.

“Yes,” Dad studied her, his eyebrows scrunching together like they do when he’s thinking really hard. “I suppose it is… I’m sorry you had to see it.”

“It’s okay… I just wanted to help her feel better,” Sarah told him. “Like you do.”

“Well, I’m happy you two are getting along.” Dad smiled, but his smile was more tired than it usually was. His voice sounded weird, like he didn’t mean what he was saying, but that was impossible, because Dad never lied to her, he wouldn’t. “Just… try and give her some space, okay? She’s got a lot of adjusting to do, and when people are vulnerable and stressed they can lash out at others.”

“O-okay…” Sarah didn’t like the sound of that. Clementine wouldn’t hurt her, she was nice… right? She had listened to Sarah read her book, she wouldn’t hurt her. “I just thought…” She swallowed, looking up at her Dad nervously. 

“Yes, Sarah?” He prompted.

“I thought we could be friends…” She admitted. “It’s been so long since I met anyone my age, I just…”

“I know, sweetie,” Dad said kindly. “I know it’s hard to be the only kid around here. It’s only natural that you’d be drawn to Clementine. But just be careful, okay? We don’t know Clementine very well, and until we do, it’s best that you keep your distance.”

Sarah nodded, pushing down her disappointment. Dad knew what he was talking about, he was right, wasn’t he always? (Yes, of course!) She’d just have to be patient, that’s all, she could wait a little longer, she waited this long, didn’t she? She just really wanted a friend…

“Don’t worry dad, I understand.” She told him, and she did, _really_ , it was just hard.

“Good,” Dad smiled, a better smile this time, and ruffled her hair affectionately. “I’m going to get something to eat. Would you like something?”

“Yes please.” Sarah had forgotten all about breakfast, but her stomach quickly reminded her.

“Alright,” Dad stood to go. “I’ll be right back.”

The _‘stay here’_ went unspoken.

Sarah wanted to ask to come with him, and help cook (late breakfast/early lunch?) like they used to. She had many fond memories of them cooking together in the kitchen, when she was so little he’d lift her on his shoulders with a laugh. She didn’t hear him laugh anymore. She’d like to, sometime. They would cook together, laughing, and they’d always make a big mess; flour would cover the counter tops like a blanket of snow, and Sarah remembered one time she dropped a glass measuring cup full of raw eggs. It had shattered on their tile floor, eggs splattering everywhere, and she’d gotten a cut on her finger, a cut her dad had cleaned and kissed and bandaged while her mom wiped away her tears and-

Dad left the room, the door snapping shut with a click.

Sarah swallowed the lump in her throat and sank against her bed frame, snuggling into the pillows. She gathered her book in her hands and drew it close to her chest, breathing in the comforting scent of old pages and ink. 

She’d stay here, like he wanted, and be patient, like he wanted, because he did so much for her, it was really the least she could do, right? She’d be good. She could just read her book.

Sarah could be good.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Language, blood, gore, and mentions of amputation.

Clementine was barely keeping it together.

Her leg was in constant, searing pain; it had been since the moment she awoke. Her arm still ached horribly, and her entire body was sore. Her ribcage was especially sensitive; she'd be surprised if there wasn't severe bruising. To top it all off, she felt weak and shaky, and her skin was crawling like there were a million snakes writhing below the surface.

But Clementine felt even worse about Christa.

She missed her terribly. She needed to know if she was alive, if she was okay or not. She had to find her, they only had each other anymore and she wasn't going to let it end like this. But it was painfully obvious how little she could do in her current situation.

She couldn't even walk. How could she possibly hope to find Christa?

The frustration and hopelessness was threatening to overwhelm her. Clementine hated feeling useless. But, she thought bitterly, it seemed like that was something she was going to have to get used to.

"Alright, Clementine, you ready?"

Pete's gravelly voice brought her out of her dwellings, and Clementine brushed a stray tear away, turning to see the man reappear from the kitchen, hiding something behind his back.

"What is it?" Clementine asked, equal parts curious and wary.

"Ta da!" Pete brought his gift out with a flourish.

It was a walking stick.

The cane was a light shade of cream, its surface smooth and even. It looked fairly sturdy, but not too heavy, and it was just the right height for her. It seemed he had even found a little rubber cap, probably from a doorstop or a table leg, to put on the end for traction. It was a well-made, quality piece of equipment.

Clementine hated it instantly.

The loathing rose up inside her like bile, curling and twisting in her stomach. It was nothing but a crutch; a reminder that she wasn't whole anymore, and would never be whole again, forced to spend the rest of her life relying on a stupid piece of wood to walk.

But her revulsion passed just as quickly as it came. This was her life now, and she had no choice but to accept it. If she ever wanted to walk again, she was going to have to get used to it. And Pete certainly didn't seem to mean any harm by it. He clearly put a lot of thought and effort into the gift, while Clementine herself hadn't even thought about that sort of thing yet.

"Do you like it?" Pete scanned her face anxiously, and she realized he was worried about how she would react.

The truth was, she needed a walking stick now. There was no way around it. Clementine didn't like it, and she knew it would take a lot of time to get used to it, but Pete really was helping her. She couldn't take her anger out on him.

"Thank you," Clementine said, gingerly taking the cane from him. "I... I really appreciate it."

"Good. I'm glad," Pete gave her a half-hearted smile. "I know things are tough right now, and I was worried it was a little too soon. But hey, that just means you'll be up and movin' quicker, right?"

"Yeah," The thought of being able to walk again brought a smile to her face. "Definitely. Thank you, it... means a lot."

"Don't mention it," Pete said kindly. "Now, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No, I just…" Clementine looked away and swallowed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. "Could you stay with me? Please?"

"Certainly." Pete replied, leaning back in his armchair easily.

He didn't pry, which Clementine was thankful for. She wasn't quite sure why she was suddenly so afraid of being alone. Normally, she'd prefer solitude than the company of strangers. She needed time to sort out her feelings, which Pete seemed to recognize and understand.

"Thanks." She said, absentmindedly stroking the cane's smooth surface.

She decided she liked Pete. He seemed like a straightforward, no-nonsense kind of guy. She wondered what his role in the cabin group was. In her opinion, he was the most suited to be the leader. Certainly better than Carlos…

Speaking of Carlos, the doctor chose that moment to come downstairs. He brushed past the couch and straight into the kitchen, without sparing Clementine so much as a glance. She was glad. She didn't want to deal with the doctor at the moment. His mere presence left her unnerved.

Pete seemed to notice the way she had tensed up, a deep frown lining his face. He looked over at the kitchen and then back to Clementine, but thankfully, he didn't say anything.

The air was heavy with tension as Clementine listened to Carlos rummaging around in the kitchen, her body pulled taught like a rubber band.

It wasn't like Carlos had been especially cruel to her. Rebecca had said far worse, and hell, Nick had almost shot her. But still, Clementine got the feeling Carlos wanted nothing to do with her. She didn't think he would hurt her, but she still couldn't bring herself to relax around him.

A minute passed and Carlos reemerged, two bowls in his hands. Once again, he passed by her quickly and disappeared up the stairs without a single word. Clementine let out the breath she'd been holding, sinking back into the sofa cushions.

"He's not so bad, once you get to know him," Pete broke the silence, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's been under a lot of stress lately, what with Rebecca's pregnancy and all."

"Doesn't make what he did okay." Clementine muttered, glancing away.

"No, it doesn't," Pete agreed. "He just made the wrong call, and there were consequences he wasn't prepared for. He'll get over it soon enough, and then he'll start acting like a decent human being again."

"I hope you're right." Clementine sighed.

"Don't worry about it, kid. It'll all turn out okay. Now," Pete pulled a deck of cards from his pocket with a grin. "Know how to play Go Fish?"

~

The rest of the day passed fairly slowly for Clementine.

They ended up playing almost a dozen games of Go Fish because Pete kept calling for a rematch. However, she had a sneaking suspicion he was actually letting her win, because she was almost positive he'd had more than enough queens for a book, but he didn't lay down, and he coincidentally discarded the last five she needed for her final book, so she won on her next turn. Pete finally admitted defeat, grumbling as he shuffled the deck, but she could've sworn she saw him wink.

He taught her a few more card games after that. She got the hang of Slapjack fairly quickly, her faster reflexes giving her an advantage when the jack finally showed up. And War was simple but entertaining, as it relied entirely on luck.

Pete even showed her how to whittle. Or at least, he tried to. The little block of wood looked nothing like the simple heart she was trying to carve; it looked more like a lumpy apple than anything else. Pete helped tidy up her carving before settling into his armchair with his own block of wood and whittling away.

Clementine eventually dozed off. Her sleep was deep and dreamless, and when she woke up she felt much more rested and energized. She was also surprised at herself for feeling comfortable enough in her surroundings to fall asleep.

Pete was still there, putting the finishing touches on his carving. It was an incredibly detailed bird, no bigger than Clementine's fist, preening at the feathers of an outstretched wing.

"Hey, Clementine," Pete greeted her. "Have a nice nap?"

"Yeah," Clementine said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What time is it?"

"About lunchtime, I reckon," Pete glanced out the window. "You hungry?"

Clementine nodded. "Yeah. That bird is really good." She added, gesturing to Pete's wood carving.

"You like it?" Pete grinned. "Here, why don't you hold onto it for me? "

"Really?"

"Sure," Pete handed her the fragile carving. "Plenty more where that came from. Now wait right there, I'll be back with some grub."

As Pete retreated to the kitchen, Clementine studied the wooden bird in her hands. It was some kind of domestic bird, a sparrow, maybe, and it barely weighed anything. The minute details, like the pupil in the bird's eye and the texture of the feathers, added real depth and character to the piece.

Clementine leaned over and placed it delicately on the coffee table. Whittling would be a good skill to learn. It was something to pass the time and get your mind off of other things, like the terror of existence.

Pete returned shortly after, holding two cans and some plastic spoons. "Alright, you can have the rice and beans, or the chicken noodle soup. They're cold, but still good."

"Um, soup please." Clementine said quickly. The canned beans brought up bad memories. Her arm tingled, and she could almost feel the dog's teeth sinking into her flesh, and feel the texture of its fur beneath her fingertips.

If Pete thought her reaction was odd, he didn't comment. He handed her the can of soup and a spoon before tucking in to his own meal.

They ate in companionable silence for a while, until Nick came downstairs.

He froze for a second at the foot of the stairs, taking in the scene, before averting his eyes and rushing outside.

Clementine raised an eyebrow. There was something about Nick's expression that made it seem like he was avoiding her, instead of purposely ignoring her like Carlos was. He almost looked… guilty.

"What was that about?" She turned to Pete for an explanation.

"I'd reckon he feels bad about how he acted before," Pete said, his expression thoughtful. "He's got a quick temper on him, and acts without thinking sometimes. But his anger leaves as quick as it comes, and now he's had some time to think. I expect you'll be getting an apology any time now."

"Really?" That was… good. Clementine didn't want everyone in the cabin to hate her. "So Nick, he's… is he your son, or..?"

"Nephew," Pete said. "Though growin' up, I was more like a father to him than an uncle. See, his dad, my brother in-law, was a real piece of shit, so I kinda stepped in…" His expression grew somber. "I… I think he resents me for it. I couldn't just be 'fun Uncle Pete'. Sometimes, you gotta play a role… even if it means the people you love hate you for it."

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you." Clementine told him.

"I'd like to believe that." Pete sighed.

Clementine used to think everyone's problems started when the apocalypse did, but now she realized that wasn't true. She hadn't realized how fortunate she was to have had a family where she never doubted that her parents loved her.

The door opened, and Luke walked in.

"Hey there, how've things been?" He asked, giving them a tired smile.

"Good, good," Pete replied. "You heading up?"

"Yeah, Nick's on watch now," Luke rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm gonna try and catch some shut eye. You guys okay down here?"

"Yeah, we're fine, go get some sleep," Pete waved him away. "You look like you could use it."

"Thanks." Luke said dryly. He caught Clementine's eye and gave her a quick smile before disappearing up the stairs.

Her chest tightened when she remembered that no one had gotten much sleep the previous night because of her. They really had done a lot for her, when it would've been so much easier to shoot her when she was bitten.

"Thank you," Clementine said quietly. "For helping me, yesterday. You and Luke… you saved my life, in the forest, and I don't think I ever thanked you for it."

"You don't have to thank me for being a decent human being," Pete told her. "But you're welcome. I just wish things had turned out different."

Someone cleared their throat, and Clementine turned to see Carlos standing on the stairwell, his black medical bag in hand.

"Hello, Pete… Clementine," He nodded in their direction. "I… need to clean your wound and change the bandages to prevent an infection," He explained haltingly. "It won't be pleasant."

"My life hasn't been pleasant since I was eight…" Clementine muttered.

Carlos raised his eyebrows but didn't comment. He walked around the couch and sat in the second armchair, setting his medical bag on the coffee table.

"Did you want me to stay?" Pete asked quietly. "I understand if you don't want me to see…"

"No, it's alright, you can stay," Clementine said quickly. "I mean, if you want to…"

Truthfully, Clementine wanted Pete with her. Seeing her amputated leg for the first time was going to be hard, and Pete's presence gave her strength. She didn't know how she'd bonded with the old man so quickly, but she was grateful he was there.

She only had vague memories of her grandfather. Her grandparents had lived in another state, and the last time she'd seen them had been when she was five or six. (She had no way of ever finding out if they were even alive) But Clementine would like to believe her grandfather was like Pete; caring, understanding, a little stern and gruff, but overall a good man.

"Well, okay then." Pete seemed touched that she was comfortable around him.

Carlos tightened the tourniquet around Clementine's thigh. "The key to recovery is going to be keeping this wound from getting infected," He said. "It will take a while for the skin to heal, so we have to try and keep it as clean as possible. We will have to do this every twelve hours or so until the wound is closed."

He brought out the bottle of antiseptic, and Clementine swallowed, reminded of painful memories.

"Once this runs out, we're either going to have to make due with soap and water, or go find some more." Carlos glanced at Pete.

"Hey, don't look at me," Pete held up his hands. "We've scavenged everything within a twenty mile-radius."

Carlos made a noncommittal noise, unraveling gauzy bandages from the roll. "I'll need to take a look at your arm too," He added to Clementine. "See how it's doing."

"Okay…" Clementine said hesitantly. "I… could I have some painkillers?"

Carlos paused for a moment. "You know, I'm actually impressed," He said. "I expected you to ask for painkillers the second you woke up," The doctor rummaged around in his bag for a moment. "Here, they'll take a little while to kick in, but they should do the trick, and they've got a sleep aid so you can get some rest tonight. However, I will warn you that it can cause side-effects for minors."

"What kind of side-effects?" Clementine asked, taking the pills.

"Lightheadedness, nausea, and hallucinations," Carlos said, dampening a washcloth with antiseptic. "It shouldn't be too bad, though. The most likely outcome is that you'll feel a little loopy when you wake up."

"Okay," Clementine swallowed the pills. "Is... is there going to a lot of… you know, blood?" She asked, gesturing to her leg.

"Hopefully not," Carlos assured her. "How much of your leg can you feel? The circulation should be completely cut off."

"It hurts a lot… but, it's also kind of tingly?"

"The pain you're feeling is most likely nerve damage," Carlos explained. "If your leg feels like it's asleep, that's a good sign. That means there isn't any blood flowing there, so this will be a little easier to handle. Are you ready?"

"I guess…" Clementine said shakily.

Slowly, carefully, Carlos began unwrapping the bandages from her leg. The smell of rotten blood hit Clementine instantly, and she sucked in a deep breath.

She smelled like a walker.

The last of the bandages fell away, and Clementine's stomach clenched. The wound was held closed by stitches, weaving in and out of red, irritated flesh, and stained with dried, rust-colored blood.

She looked away as Carlos began to clean the wound, choking back a cry of pain. Pete offered her his hand, which she took without hesitation, squeezing his hand so tightly her knuckles turned white.

The disinfectant burned, and Clementine squeezed her eyes shut, tears running down her face. Carlos moved quickly, cleaning near the stitches first before turning his attention to the rest of her leg. To feel someone dabbing at her exposed muscles and nerves with a washcloth was an entirely new experience, and it made her skin crawl. But soon enough it was over, and Carlos was wrapping her leg in clean, fresh bandages.

Clementine sank into the couch, struggling to catch her breath, and brushed her tears away.

"Well, your leg isn't infected, and the stitches seem to be holding well," Carlos said helpfully. "There is some swelling, but that should go away with a few days. Provided all goes well, the wound should be completely closed in about two months, but if you're careful, you can attempt walking and moving around within the week, so long as you don't actually put any pressure on your leg that could agitate it, or cause it to bleed again. You'll be using a walking cane instead of a prosthetic, though, so that shouldn't be a problem."

Carlos' positive tone was a welcome change from his cold behavior. Clementine was just glad he wasn't ignoring her anymore.

"Now for your arm," Carlos said, pulling a fresh washcloth from his bag. "This should be nothing compared to what you just went through."

The dog bite wasn't a pretty sight, but it wasn't that deep either, and her stitches were holding well. The disinfectant stung when it seeped into her open flesh wound, but it wasn't nearly as painful as her leg had been, so for that she was thankful.

"Alright, you're done," Carlos said, tying off the bandages. "In a couple days, I expect you'll feel nothing but some lingering soreness. It's going to leave a pretty nasty scar, though."

"Better than losing it, right?" Clementine mumbled.

"Yes, it certainly is," Carlos agreed. "Now, the healing process is going to be long and hard, but as long as we keep an eye on your progress, I think you'll make a full recovery."

"Thanks." Clementine said, her voice small.

"Don't mention it," Carlos said briskly. "It's what I do. Pete, you'll stay with her, right?"

"Yep." Pete nodded.

"Alright then, my work here is done," Carlos snapped his medical bag shut. "Don't forget to eat a good dinner. Pete, I think we still have some cooked fish, give her that."

"Sure thing, doc."

"Get some rest tonight, Clementine."

"Okay."

Carlos disappeared back upstairs.

"Thanks for staying with me." Clementine said, her voice small.

"Don't worry about it," Pete shrugged. "Glad everything's going well. Carlos seems optimistic, which, I'll have you know, is a very rare occurrence."

"I'm glad too," Clementine told him. "I'll get to use the cool walking stick you gave me!"

Pete smiled broadly. "Well, I'd certainly hate for it to go to waste," He agreed. "But for now, get some rest. I'll wake you up near supper time."

"Okay." Clementine pulled her blanket back over herself and snuggled into the couch, her heart fluttering with excitement.

As hard as it had been to see her leg like that, the exhilarating thought of being able to walk again outweighed any sadness she might harbor for her lost limb. The tough part would be waiting for her leg to heal some more so she could get started. She was anxious to find Christa again, but she knew that for the time being, she was in good hands.

Clementine closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Language, and mentions of amputation, cannibalism, blood, gore, death, and violence.

Pete was just about ready to nod off when Luke came downstairs.

It was about ten at night. The cabin was quiet, and Clementine was fast asleep on the couch. She actually looked peaceful; the painkillers must have worked. 

“Hey, Pete,” Luke said. “Figured you needed to tap out. I can watch her overnight, let you get some sleep so you’ll be ready in the morning. She’s gotten pretty attached to you.” He noted, glancing away.

“Now don’t worry about that, Luke, she’ll warm up to ya soon enough,” Pete assured him. “She just needs some time.”

“Yeah, I know,” Luke sighed. “So is there anything else?”

“She’s already had dinner, so don’t worry about that. When I woke her up, she was really groggy, and she fell back asleep immediately,” Pete told him. “She’ll probably sleep through the whole night.”

“That’s good,” Luke nodded. “She needs all the sleep she can get.”

The porch door creaked open, and Nick poked his head into the room. Seeing that Clementine was asleep, he stepped inside quietly, gingerly shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, Nick, you headin’ up?” Luke asked, greeting him with a smile.

“Yeah,” Nick answered. “I’m switching out with Alvin. What about you?”

“I’m gonna keep an eye on Clementine overnight,” Luke explained. “Pete’s been watchin’ her all day.”

“And I certainly don’t mind it,” Pete said. “She makes for good company, but I’m pretty beat, and someone has to stay up in case something happens,” He fixed Luke with a stern look. “That means no dozing whatsoever, got it? Not like last time.”

“Don’t worry,” Luke rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I won’t fall asleep, I promise.” 

“Hey, is she okay?” Nick said suddenly, nodding at Clementine.

The young amputee was murmuring in her sleep, her eyes squeezed shut and her face pinched. She curled in on herself, clutching the blanket like a lifeline, and let out a soft cry. Pete’s heart sank.

“Looks like a bad dream,” He sighed. “Better wake her up.”

“Wait, are you sure?” Luke asked. “She really needs some rest.”

“Well, she’s not gonna get it this way,” Pete pointed out. “Don’t worry, she’ll probably go right back to sleep, anyways.”

“Alright.” Luke relented.

“Clementine..?” Pete said softly, trying not to startle her awake. “Hey, Clem, wake up-”

Clementine bolted upright with a scream, her eyes wild and unfocused, before breaking down, her body heaving with sobs. “No, no, no, _stop!”_ She cried, tears streaming down her face. _“Please,_ stop!”

“Woah, Clementine-” Her head snapped up to face him, her eyes glassy, and Pete realized with a start that she didn’t recognize him. “It’s okay, it was just a bad dream-”

_“Why_ d-did they have t-to eat Mark?” Clementine sobbed. “I-I don’t underst-stand, he was g-going to be o-okayyy… _why_ did they do it?”

Pete glanced at Luke, who was equally confused and horrified. 

“Clementine, snap out of it!” Nick started. “It’s just a dream, it’s not real-”

“She doesn’t know that!” Pete cut in. “It must be those meds Carlos gave her, they’re making her hallucinate…” He turned to Clementine. “It’s alright, you’re safe, Clementine. It’s okay, there aren’t any lurkers here-”

_“No,”_ She cried. “N-not… not _walkers._ It was… it w-was _people._ They s-said Mark would be okay, b-but they _lied,_ a-and… and Lee found him… why did they do tha-at?”

“Oh my god…” Luke breathed, his eyes wide. “You don’t think..?”

“Clementine…” Pete said carefully. “Did… did _humans_ eat your friend Mark?”

Clementine nodded tearfully. “They said they w-were gonna help him, but… they cut his legs up and cooked them for- for _dinner,_ and… a-and we almost ate him t-too!” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Lee stopped me, be-before I could… he k-killed all of them, but… but it was too late… Mark, he-” She hiccupped. “They _killed_ him. Th-they were gonna kill us, too…” 

“Fuck…” Nick murmured, looking stricken. 

“Clementine, listen to me,” Pete fought to keep his voice even. “I know what happened was awful, and I’m sorry you had to go through that, but it’s okay now. Mark is in a better place.”

“R-really?” Clementine asked, her face stained with tears. 

“Yes,” Pete had no idea what exactly had happened, but right now Clementine needed reassurance. “He doesn’t have to hurt anymore, and he wouldn’t want you to, either. He’d want you to be happy.”

“It was so scary…” Clementine whispered, her eyes distant.

“I know,” Pete said comfortingly. “You’re safe now. No one’s going to hurt you.”

His method seemed to be working. Clementine had calmed down significantly, sniffling as she wiped away her tears. Her eyes were red and tired, her eyelids drooping heavily, and Pete could tell she was struggling to stay conscious, still under the effects of the medication.

“You can go back to sleep now, Clementine,” Luke said, picking up on Pete’s strategy. “It’s okay.”

“Oh.. o-okay…” Clementine sank back into the couch hesitantly. “I-I just… I don’t know _why_ they… th-they…”

“Shh, it’s alright, I know,” Luke soothed her. “I know.”

Finally, her exhaustion getting the better of her, Clementine settled back down, her eyes closing. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and grew still, her breathing growing deeper until she was sleeping peacefully again, like none of this had ever happened.

“Holy shit…” Nick swore quietly. _“Fuck._ Do you think that really happened?”

“Hell, I don’t know,” Luke ran a hand through his hair. “Do you- do you think she might’a dreamt the whole thing?”

“I don’t think so,” Pete said, his heart clenching. “I think it was real. It was too specific- if she had hallucinated the whole thing, she probably wouldn’t have remembered details like… like that.”

“Goddamn… that’s _sick,”_ Luke shook his head. “She- she’s so young, and- she’s seen _cannibals.”_

“What the fuck do we do now?” Nick asked. “We- we can’t just ignore this.”

“We’re gonna have to,” Pete said grimly. “Clementine wasn’t in her right mind. She should be able to decide if and when she wants to share her past with us. It’s not fair to her.”

“So are we supposed to just keep this from the rest of the group?” Nick asked. 

“Yes,” Pete said firmly. “It should be Clementine’s decision to tell them. Her past is none of our business unless she wants it to be.”

“Okay… _okay,_ fuck, you’re right…” Luke grimaced. “But do we tell Clementine we know? I.. I’d feel kinda bad, keepin’ it from her.”

“…I think we should wait,” Pete said. “She’s just settling in now, and she’s in a very vulnerable state of mind. She might react badly.”

“So we’ll just pretend we don’t know she was almost killed by fucking cannibals?” Nick demanded. “This is insane…”

“The whole thing is fucked, Nick!” Luke exclaimed. “We have to try and do what’s best for Clementine.”

“I guess so…” Nick muttered, folding his arms. 

They all froze when they heard footsteps from upstairs growing louder. Pete forced himself to relax; it wasn’t as if they were doing anything wrong. Alvin’s face appeared at the top of the stairs.

“Hey guys, what’s goin’ on? Someone screamed,” He said, furrowing his eyebrows. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah we’re fine,” Luke replied. “Clementine just had a nightmare, but it’s been taken care of.”

“Oh, alright then. Poor kid,” Alvin shook his head. “Hey Nick, you about ready to swap out?”

“Uh, yeah… yeah, I, um... I was about to come and get you.” Nick said, blinking. Pete could tell his nephew was greatly bothered by their decision to keep quiet about what they’d heard.

“Alright. Pete, Luke, what’s your plan?” Alvin asked.

“I’m about to head on up,” Pete explained. “Luke’s going to watch Clementine for the night.”

“Okay. Get some rest.” Alvin made his way downstairs, giving Clementine a sympathetic look before heading outside, softly shutting the door behind him. 

They were silent for a moment.

“…so we’re in agreement, then?” Pete said quietly. “We don’t tell anyone about this. We let Clementine come to us with this when she’s ready.”

“Right,” Luke nodded. “But if Clementine asks, I’m not gonna lie to her, okay?”

“Fair enough,” Pete amended. “Nick?”

“Fine,” Nick relented. “Let’s just hope this doesn’t come back to bite us.” He went upstairs without another word, his gaze lowered. Clearly, he was unhappy. 

Pete sighed. “You gonna be okay down here, Luke?” He asked tiredly.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Luke waved him away. “Don’t worry.”

“If she wakes up again and you need help, you come and get me, alright?” Pete found it almost impossible to believe how quickly their night had gone to shit.

“Alright.” 

Later, when Pete had laid down and closed his eyes, his mind kept repeating what Clementine had said. She had seemed so terrified and heart-broken… he wondered what else she had been through, what other horrors she’d seen in her short life. 

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

~

Clementine blinked into consciousness.

The early morning light filtered in through the windows. Everything was silent and still, except for the birds chittering outside. She stretched her arms out with a yawn, her eyes wandering around the room lazily, and she realized with a start that it was Luke sitting in the armchair, and not Pete. 

“Mornin’, Clementine,” Luke greeted her. “Sleep well?”

“Oh, uh, yeah…” She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Where’s Pete?”

“Upstairs, sleeping,” Luke told her, gesturing towards the stairwell. “I figure he’ll be down in a little bit. How’re you feelin’?”

“Um, good… a little light-headed, like my head’s fuzzy… but it doesn’t hurt as bad,” She explained, nodding towards her leg. “It’s just achy.”

“Glad to hear it,” Luke smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You hungry? I can go get you some breakfast?”

“Yeah, sure,” Clementine said. “Thanks.”

“Yep.” Luke stood and went into the kitchen.

There was something off about him. He almost seemed nervous around her… Clementine hoped she wasn’t being off-putting. It was true she wasn’t entirely comfortable around him yet, but she didn’t have anything against him. 

Maybe he was hurt that she had bonded with Pete so quickly, considering the fact that they both tried to help her from the start. Luke had been on her side, and even though it hadn’t saved her from the shed, that still meant something, didn’t it? But, if Clementine was being entirely honest, part of her unease around Luke was because he had been the one to cut off her leg. She certainly didn’t resent him for it, but it was hard not to associate all that pain and grief with him.

Either way, she’d have to get over it. It wasn’t fair to Luke. He was really making an effort, and she could tell he felt guilty about what had happened. She just had to figure out how to get past those feelings.

Clementine was mulling over her revelations when she heard footsteps from upstairs. Her first thought was Pete. A small part of her was concerned about her dependency on him, but she couldn’t help it. 

But instead it was Nick, who studied her with troubled blue eyes before offering her a hesitant smile. 

“Uh, hi there,” He said haltingly. “Morning.”

“…good morning.” Clementine ventured, a little put off by Nick’s tone.

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry about the way I acted, y’know, before,” Nick said, scratching the back of his head. “I got a little aggro, and… that was definitely not cool. I-I’m sorry.”

Luke reemerged from the kitchen, a bowl in his hand, and took in the scene. “Nick’s been known to go off every once in a while,” He said, quick to defend his friend. “Don’t hold it against him.”

“I understand, you were just trying to protect your friends,” Clementine replied, taking the bowl of food Luke offered her. “Believe me, I get it.” 

“It’s just… we had a bad experience once, with someone who was bitten.” Luke glanced over at Nick, who stared at the floor.

“We’ve all had bad experiences.” Clementine said solemnly.

Both of them looked up at that and exchanged a pained look, making Clementine uneasy. It was almost like they knew something she didn’t…

“Nick lost his mom,” Luke said quietly. “We tried to help someone who was bitten, and… we thought we could control the situation, but then she turned, and… Nick’s mom was standing right there.”

“It was my fault…” Nick’s eyes were haunted.

“It was _nobody’s_ fault,” Luke said gently. “It all happened too fast… there was nothing we could do.”

An image came to mind; Katjaa, tired and bloody, being grabbed from behind by the reanimated amputee she’d tried to save. If it wasn’t for Lee’s quick reaction, she would’ve died. Clementine shuddered; if the group hadn’t had Carlos with them, she could’ve suffered the same fate as Ben’s teacher…

“Anyways, I hope you understand,” Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s hard, recovering from something like that. Our group is kinda wary around strangers.”

“Yeah,” Clementine’s expression darkened. “It’s hard to trust people after something like that happens.” 

“Ain’t that the truth…” Nick muttered. “Still, I’m sorry for being such a shithead.”

“It’s alright,” Clementine said. “I understand.”

“Yeah,” Pete’s gravelly voice cut in unexpectedly, the older man making his way down the staircase. “Some people just can’t help being shitheads.”

“Hey!” Nick glared at him, but there was no real heat behind it. 

“What? You can be a real jerk sometimes,” Pete shrugged. “But, I’ll admit it does take a big man to admit his mistakes and ask for forgiveness,” He amended. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Aw, c’mon Uncle Pete,” Nick looked away in embarrassment as Luke grinned at him. “Knock it off.”

“Hey there, Pete.” Luke greeted him.

“Hi Luke, Clementine,” Pete nodded at them in turn. Clementine responded with a smile and a small wave. “You boys busy right now?” He asked.

“Nah, not really,” Luke said. “Carlos has the next watch after Alvin, so I’ve got time to kill. Nick?” 

“I’m free.” Nick replied.

“Good,” Pete grinned and pulled a deck of cards from his pocket. “How about a game of Rummy?” 

~

Over the next few days, Clementine slipped into a routine of sorts.

It became easier to bear the pain in her leg without painkillers. Each time Carlos cleaned the wound out, it hurt less than the previous time, and the doctor seemed happy with her healing. Her leg also had yet to get infected, and the more the wound closed, the less likely the possibility seemed.

Most of her free time was spent sleeping, playing card games, or whittling. Her attempts left her covered in wood shavings, and her hands covered with blisters, but ultimately satisfied with her progress. Of course, her carvings were nothing compared to Pete’s, but he assured her she would get there someday if she kept at it.

She didn’t get to see Sarah as much as she would’ve liked. The older girl seemed to stay upstairs most of the time, and when they did see each other it was only a brief hello. Whenever Clementine asked Carlos about his daughter, he would change the subject. She could tell he didn’t want her hanging out with Sarah even if he didn’t say it outright. 

Another person she saw little of was Rebecca. She didn’t do watch like the other cabin members because of her heavy pregnancy, so she also spend most of her time upstairs. When she did come down, however, she made a point of ignoring Clementine, which was fine by her. She could handle being ignored.

Clementine didn’t get to spend much time around Alvin either, but she did make sure to thank him for helping her when she’d broken out of the shed. She’d caught him alone one night when he came down to grab some dinner for him and Rebecca, and Pete had gone to use the restroom.

“Hey, I didn’t get to thank you for helping me yet,” Clementine told him. “You didn’t rat me out, and you brought me those bandages and the juice box. I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” Alvin smiled broadly. “Don’t mention it. I just wish I could’a done more, y’know? But hey, anytime,” His eyebrows creased together. “Uh, you didn’t tell anyone about that, did you? I’m in hot water with Bec right now as it is, and-”

“Don’t worry, no one else knows about it.” Clementine assured him.

“Okay, good. Thank you.” 

Clementine had a good relationship with most of the cabin members, and after all the chaos she’d brought into their lives, she didn’t want to cause even more problems. Luke, Nick, and Pete had her a little confused. Sometimes they acted oddly around her. At first she’d thought it was pity, with her missing leg and all, but they were all very supportive and upbeat about that.

She tried not to dwell on it. Every group had their own history, and she wasn’t going to pry. After all, there was plenty they didn’t know about her.

Life at the cabin was actually peaceful. The cabin group members always had someone on watch, to keep an eye on things outside and take out the occasional stray walker here and there. They had a decent store of food; a mix of canned goods and fresh fish they caught from a nearby river. 

And four days after the amputation, Clementine was walking again.

“Woo hoo! Alright, Clementine!” Luke cheered from his spot on the bottom step.

“When did you become my cheerleader?” Clementine griped, but was unable to keep the smile off her face.

It was slow going, but thanks to the walking stick Pete made her, Clementine was making her way around the living room. It was an awkward process; she had to plant the cane down and put all her weight on it before hopping forward on her other leg. It was like using a single crutch.

“How’s that cane working for you, Clem?” Pete asked.

“Good,” Clementine replied, slightly out of breath. “It’s pretty sturdy, and look- no splinters!” She leaned against the sofa and showed him her hands, which were splinter-free, as promised.

“Now don’t strain yourself,” Carlos reminded her, watching from the kitchen doorway. “We don’t want to aggravate your wound and have it start bleeding again.”

“I’ll be careful,” Clementine promised, taking up the cane again. “Just a few more laps.”

“Don’t worry, Carlos, I think she’s got the hang of it.” Luke remarked. 

It did take a while to get used to. Clementine couldn’t go for too long, but over the next few days she slowly built up her endurance and strength again. Her leg was going to have to get a lot stronger since it was supporting all her weight on its own now, and her hands quickly developed callouses from the walking stick, but it was all worth it to be able to  
walk again. 

It was like a dream come true.

But one week after the amputation, Pete and Nick went missing, and it turned into a nightmare.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Language, death, and violence.

Clementine leaned against the couch to catch her breath.

It was getting easier. Slowly, but surely, it was getting easier to walk. She'd built up an impressive amount of endurance, considering it had only been a week since the incident, and she was actually quite speedy. Of course, her full out sprint was only about as fast as a casual jog, but it was better than she'd expected. Better than she'd hoped for.

"You're gettin' pretty good at that," Luke observed. "Just don't wear yourself out, okay?"

"Don't worry, I'm fine," Clementine assured him. "Just catching my breath."

"Mmm," Luke frowned, sitting up in the armchair. "You know, Clementine, you don't have to prove anything to anybody, alright?"

"I know," Clementine said, a bit defensively. "I'm doing this for myself. I want to get stronger." _And I don't want to be a burden._ Her mind added silently.

"And that's perfectly fine," Luke said quellingly. "But you don't want to overdo it."

"I know." Clementine sighed.

Luke was right, but she couldn't ignore her need to do _something._ Christa was out there, and Clementine couldn't just sit around doing nothing. She wasn't used to staying put; she'd been on the move for years now, and it was making her a little anxious.

Pete and Nick came downstairs, jarring her from her thoughts. They both had their guns with them.

"Evening," Pete greeted them with a nod. "How are you?"

"Hey there, we're good. Where you two headed?" Luke asked.

"It's about time to go check the fish traps again. Shouldn't take too long," Pete said. "How's a couple a' brookies sound for dinner, Clem?"

"Sounds great!" Clementine had become quite partial to fish. It was far better than cold, canned ravioli.

"Well, better get movin' before the sun goes down," Luke told them, glancing out the window. "You be careful, alright?"

"I always am," Pete replied, shouldering his rifle. "I've stayed alive this long, right?"

"We'll be fine, Luke," Nick assured his friend. "Besides, you know where to find us."

"Back in a few," Pete promised. "See ya."

"Bye," Clementine waved as they left, the door clicking shut behind them. She turned her attention back to the task at hand, pushing herself off the couch and leaning on her walking stick. "What do you think, Luke? Up the stairs and back down again in under a minute?"

"Oh, I dunno about that…" Luke rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's a mighty lot of climbing, okay; you think you're up for the challenge?"

"Sure I am," Clementine scoffed. "And _when_ I do, you have to be my personal servant and do whatever I want for a whole day!"

"I already do that…" Luke complained.

Clementine grinned at him. "What, are you afraid of a little friendly wager?"

"No," Luke insisted. "And what happens if you don't make it?"

"Then you get to gloat about it." Clementine said simply.

"Fair enough," Luke shrugged. "Alright, it's a bet. You ready?"

"You bet I am."

"Okay- three, two, one, _go!"_

~

It was a bit of a walk to the river, but the forest trail was quite peaceful.

The evening sun cast a glow through the canopy of leaves, the ground dappled with light. The trail was well worn and familiar; they'd been staying in the cabin for a few months now, and the river was their primary source of food.

It reminded Pete of his childhood; his father had been an outdoorsman who taught him all about fishing, hunting, and using his environment. He had many fond memories of cooking fish he'd caught over a fire pit he'd built, and for a young boy there was nothing better than that sense of accomplishment he felt. He'd been independent from a tender age; his father was not the coddling type, and he made sure Pete grew up tough, but those moments with his father were irreplaceable in his mind.

Pete had wanted the same relationship with Nick, but it seemed he wasn't cut out to be a hunter.

"You alright, Nick? You been kinda quite the past few days." His nephew had always been good at hiding his feelings, but not from Pete. And now that they were away from the cabin and everyone else, Nick was letting his façade drop.

"I don't know… I've just been thinking. With everything that's happened, it's like… fighting is just so petty, y'know?" Nick sighed. "Everything I was mad about before just seems so stupid and insignificant when you look at what we're dealing with. Like, arguing about food rations or night shifts seems so fucking pointless when there are zombies out there, a-and _cannibals,_ and-" He broke off, frustrated.

"Hey," Pete said gently. "You got nothin' to be ashamed of, alright? It's just human nature, son, we'll always find something to bicker about. Doesn't matter if the world is ending or not."

"Seems like I'm the one always starting a fight…" Nick mumbled.

"Now, that's not true," Pete said. "Rebecca is _still_ giving Clem the cold shoulder, after everything that's happened."

"Well, she doesn't know what we know about Clementine," Nick muttered darkly. _"And_ she's pregnant, what's my excuse? I don't know why you guys put up with me…"

"We're family," Pete replied, clapping a hand on Nick's shoulder. "All of us. The relationships we make now are stronger than anything we had before. And when things get tough, we stick together."

"Yeah?" Nick looked up at him, the smallest glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Well, I suppose you haven't given up on me yet, right?"

"Right," Pete grinned. "And I meant what I said, a few days ago. It's not easy, admitting you were wrong. No one's perfect, but what matters is that we try to do better. You did good."

"Thanks, Uncle Pete." Nick rolled his eyes, but Pete could tell the words meant a lot to him.

"Don't mention it. Now, the river should be just up ahead-" Pete stopped in his tracks, his stomach dropping.

The riverbank was littered with bodies. They were fresh, some of them still bleeding, staining the dirt and rocks red. Every corpse was riddled with bullet holes, almost excessively so. There was only one person Pete knew with such a penance for overkill, and the thought turned his blood to ice.

"Fuck…" Nick breathed, reaching for his gun. "Do you think he's still in the area?"

"Has to be," Pete muttered, glancing around. "They're fresh."

"Damn it… _damn,"_ Nick's wide eyes darted around the forest edge. "We gotta get out of here."

"Wait… we have to make sure they're not around," Pete said quietly. "We can't lead him back to the others. He hasn't found us yet, and I intend to keep it that way."

"Okay… you're right," Nick took a calming breath, trying not to panic. "So what do we do?"

"Look around. See if we can find anything that might tell us where he went… footprints, or something," Pete walked closer towards the river, scanning the scene. "Maybe try and find out who these sorry bastards were, and why Carver had 'em killed."

"Right, okay…" Nick moved cautiously, his hand hovering near the trigger.

"Make sure they're all dead first," Pete added. "And don't shoot unless you have to. We don't want them to know we're here."

"Got it."

It was a little nerve-wracking, examining the still-warm bodies, because Pete had no way of knowing if the man who did it was still around. His false sense of confidence was just an act to keep Nick from panicking; he was scared out of his mind.

All the corpses he looked over had been shot in the head, as well as about twenty other places, so they weren't getting back up. He didn't find anything that indicated who they were. He also didn't recognize any of Carver's people among the dead, so either Carver didn't do it, or he just did it flawlessly.

"There's more over here," Nick had crossed the river to the other side, where about five more bodies lay in a heap. "All shot to hell and back."

"Damn," Pete sighed heavily. "This wasn't some rinky-dink pissin' match. Any of Carver's?"

"No," Nick called back. "None that I recognize, but they could be new. Maybe it wasn't him?"

As much as Pete would've liked to believe Carver hadn't been involved, he knew better. It was terrifying to think that Carver had the ammunition and manpower to execute a massacre like this and come out unscathed.

"Maybe," He said, for Nick's benefit. "Either way, we should hurry up. The gunshots would've attracted walkers, and the fact that there aren't any here means they're on their way."

"Alright."

There was just one body on this side Pete hadn't checked yet. He approached it cautiously, out of habit more than anything, because he hadn't actually expected it to be alive.

The man coughed, and Pete jumped back, gun raised, but there was no need; he was bleeding from gunshot wounds to his shoulder and stomach, his hollow eyes fixed on Pete, blood dripping from his parted mouth.

He was dying.

"P-please…" The man coughed again, his voice raspy. "Help… me…"

Pete knelt beside the man, close enough to hear better, but still out of reach. He swallowed hard; there was nothing Pete could do to help him.

"Who did this to you?" Pete asked urgently.

"Wa-ater… _please…"_ The dying man tried to move his arm, his stiff fingers curling. He dragged the limb through the bloody dirt until it was straight, pointing at a little backpack a couple feet away.

Pete grabbed the backpack, frowning. It was an unusual backpack for a grown man to have; it was very small, probably too small for him to actually wear, and it was pink and purple, like it was made for a little girl…

A little girl.

Pete's eyes widened. Clementine had said she and her friend were attacked by bandits… he glanced down at the man, who was watching him with glassy eyes.

"Where did you get this?" He demanded. "Tell me! Did you take it from someone? A woman, and a little girl?"

The man's eyes widened, and Pete clenched his jaw; it was true. The bandit tried to speak, and broke into another bout of coughing. "Please, w-water…" He pleaded.

Pete hurriedly unzipped the backpack, finding a single bottle of water inside. He uncapped it and held it to the man's lips, tipping his head back so he could drink.

"Thank… you…" The man shuddered. He was almost gone.

"Now tell me, the woman; did you kill her?" Pete had to know. "Tell me!"

"N-no…" The man sucked in a breath. "No, she… s-she… g-got- got a.. away…"

Pete inhaled sharply. He was pretty good at reading people, and this man was dying, so he had no reason to lie... Christa was alive! Pete had to get back, he had to tell Clementine! He looked down at the bandit, who had closed his eyes.

"Thank you." Pete said quietly.

The man peered up at him, his eyes searching. A violent shiver ran through his body, and his eyes unfocused, staring blankly at nothing. He was gone.

Pete blinked. There was only one thing left to do. He aimed his rifle at the dead man's head, took a deep breath, and-

_Click._

The barrel of a gun pressed into the back of his skull.

"Don't move, or I'll blow your fucking head off."

~

It had been an hour before Luke began to worry.

He wouldn't admit it to Clementine, but she could tell. He kept glancing out the window every couple of minutes, and he kept getting distracted, dropping out of conversations entirely.

Clementine tried to keep the mood light, but she was also growing concerned for her friends. Eventually, Luke dropped the act and called a group meeting, ushering everyone into the kitchen. (Everyone except Sarah, Clementine noticed. They probably hadn't told her yet.)

"Alright, Luke, what's up?" Alvin asked. "Where are Nick and Pete?"

"They went to check the fish traps. They've been gone for two hours now," Luke ran a hand through his hair. "It shouldn't be takin' them this long, okay, and it's getting dark fast. I think we need to go look for them."

"Are you sure?" Carlos spoke up. "Sending more people this late is very risky. It's dangerous at night."

"I know, but I'm willing to go," Luke said. "They might be in trouble."

"Maybe we should wait 'till morning?" Alvin suggested.

"It might be too late by then!" Luke exclaimed. "This isn't like Pete at all, something must've happened."

"You guys have used this river for a long time, right?" Clementine spoke up a little hesitantly, still unsure of her place in the group. Luke nodded, and she pressed on. "And this has never happened before. It's not like they got lost, they must need help."

"Good point..." Alvin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It's only takes a half an hour for a round trip, and Pete's not one to mess around."

"You might be right," Carlos admitted. "But you can't go alone, Luke."

"I'll go with him." Alvin volunteered easily.

"Thank you." Luke said, relieved.

"Alvin, are you sure?" Rebecca seemed wary.

"We'll be fine," Alvin assured her. "Just pop down to the river and back."

"Okay... just be careful," Rebecca mumbled. "You know how I worry."

"So it's settled then?" Luke addressed the group. "Alvin and I will go look for them."

"If you don't find them at the river, make sure you get back to the cabin before nightfall," Carlos told him. "We can regroup and look again in the morning."

Luke hesitated. "I'm not just gonna give up, Carlos-"

"I'm not asking you too," Carlos amended. "We have to be smart about this. I'll stay on watch while you're gone, in case they come back before you. Just check the river and come back, alright? We can do more when it's light outside."

"Alright," Luke sighed, clearly unhappy, but unwilling to argue more. "We'll just check the river and come back. You ready, Alvin?"

"Yep."

Clementine had a bad feeling in her gut.

When night fell several hours later, and Luke and Alvin still hadn't returned, Carlos came inside to speak with Rebecca. Clementine was having a hard time waiting. She didn't like uncertainty. And she hated feeling helpless; there wasn't anything she could do.

"So what are you going to do?" Clementine asked when Carlos had come back downstairs.

"I'm going to keep watch until morning," Carlos rubbed his eyes tiredly. "If they're still not back by then, Rebecca and I will have to go."

"Do you think they're alright?" Clementine couldn't help but ask. Carlos probably knew them better than she did.

"I'm not sure. Part of me thinks Luke's just being stubborn, and doesn't want to come back until he finds them, but..." He sighed. "I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see. Goodnight."

"Night." There was something Carlos wasn't telling her, something he was worried about. He seemed to have an idea of what might've happened to Pete and Nick, but for whatever reason, he wasn't sharing.

It was a long and restless night.

Clementine wasn't used to sleeping alone, and the shadows cast around the room didn't help with her paranoia. Eventually she gave up on sleep and just waited, listening for any sign that her friends had returned, but the cabin was silent.

In the morning, Rebecca came downstairs looking just as tired and anxious as Clementine was.

"You and Carlos going to go look for them now?" She asked.

"Yeah," Rebecca seemed a little taken aback that Clementine had spoken to her, but she was too distracted to be mean. "Someone has to go find those dumb asses. Probably just got corned by lurkers somewhere, had to hole up for the night until they passed." She didn't seem to believe her own words.

"I'm sure Alvin's okay," Clementine said quietly. "I'm sure they all are. Don't give up."

"You keep believing that." Rebecca murmured, more to herself than anything. She went to open the door, but Carlos beat her to it.

"Good, you're up," The doctor's eyes were bloodshot. "We should go."

"Waitin' on you." Rebecca mumbled, brushing past him and out the door.

"Be right there. Uh, Clementine? I, um, I have something to ask of you," Carlos began haltingly. "I.. I need you to, uh, keep an eye on Sarah while we're gone."

Clementine frowned. Carlos had made it abundantly clear that he didn't want her anywhere near his daughter. She hadn't brought it up; they'd only just reached friendly territory, and she didn't want to push her boundaries yet. But the way the group, Carlos especially, acted around Sarah was beginning to grate on her nerves.

"Just stay with her until we get back," Carlos continued, not noticing her hesitation. "Keep her distracted, and don't tell her _anything,_ alright? I don't want her to worry unless there's a reason to."

"Does she know what's going on? At all?" Clementine fought to keep her tone neutral.

"No, and it's going to stay that way," Carlos said firmly. "She doesn't need to get worked up about nothing."

"Two thirds of the group is missing, how is that _not_ something to worry about?" Clementine demanded.

"Clementine," Carlos's voice grew stern. "She's _my_ daughter, and I'll raise her how I see fit. Don't tell her, understand? I'm serious."

"Okay..." Clementine sighed. "Okay, I won't tell her. But that doesn't mean I agree with it." She added.

"Duly noted," Carlos deadpanned. "Now, we'll be back soon, just stay inside and don't open the doors for _anything,_ alright?"

"I know," Clementine swallowed. "Just... be careful, okay?"

"We'll find them." Carlos promised.

The doctor left, leaving her in an almost empty cabin. Clementine drummed her fingers on the arm of the couch, glancing up at the staircase. She could always just yell for Sarah to come down, but she felt like challenging herself. She'd won her bet with Luke, after all...

Clementine picked up her walking stick and began the climb.

~

Pete froze, his breath catching.

 _Idiot._ He hadn't been paying enough attention. A quick check across the river confirmed that Nick, who was kneeling beside one of the bodies with his back to Pete, hadn't taken notice yet. He had to alert him, somehow, before it was too late...

"Now wait a second, Johnny, let's not be too hasty," A familiar, gravelly voice spoke. "We still need him."

A chill ran down Pete's spine, his stomach dropping. He should've known. Pete inhaled slowly, clenching his jaw, and forced him self to remain still as someone crouched beside him. He stared straight ahead, even as the voice spoke again.

"Hello, Pete," He didn't need to look to know Carver was smiling. "Long time no see."

Pete didn't respond, tightening his grip on his rifle. Could he move quick enough to shoot Carver? He was in a tight spot; there wasn't much room to maneuver, and a rifle wasn't easy to aim in such close quarters.

Carver seemed to realize his train of thought. "Put the gun down, Pete. _Slowly._ Don't make a sound."

Carefully, Pete set his rifle on the ground. Nick still hadn't noticed. _Damn it, boy, turn around!_

"Good," Carver's voice dripped with venom. "Now, I'm sorry about all... _this._ Wasn't exactly how I pictured our reunion, but I digress. You understand, don't you?"

Pete grit his teeth together, his eyes narrowing.

"Of course you do. Now, I've got a favor to ask..."

The body of the dead man twitched. Carver didn't seem to notice. A half-assed plan began to take root in Pete's mind. He had to time this perfectly...

"I need you to tell me where the others are. Where are you hiding?"

"Go to hell." Pete was surprised by the ferocity of his own voice. He didn't dare look at Carver, but he could imagine what his face would look like.

Carver straightened up with a sigh. "I gotta say, Pete, I'm disappointed. I'm not the bad guy here, alright? I'm just trying to put my family back together. I thought you'd understand that, of all people..."

Pete remained silent, eyes locked on the corpse in front of him. Its fingers curled slightly.

"Very well then," Carver turned away. "Go collect the boy; Pete needs some... _incentive."_

One of Carver's men started making his way across the river, gun in hand. The lurker, that's what it was now, let out an almost inaudible groan. Pete was right in front of it, he'd have to move fast, or he'd get his throat torn out.

"If you tell me where Rebecca is, I won't hurt him."

_Wait, wait..._

"Just say the word, Pete."

The lurker's eyes opened.

_Now._

Pete ducked underneath the gun and rolled to the side as the lurker lunged for him. Carver's lackey fired in alarm, hitting the lurker right between the eyes. Before he had a chance to re-aim, Pete tackled him, grabbing the gun and trying to wrestle it away from him. He yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Nick, _run!"_

Pete couldn't look, couldn't make sure Nick was okay. _Don't be a hero, Nick, just run-_ He knew he couldn't win this fight, but every second they were dealing with him gave Nick a better chance to get away, to be safe-

**BANG.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: None (minor language)

"Say cheese!"

Clementine stumbled back from the doorway in surprise as a camera flashed, almost losing her balance. White spots danced in front of her eyes, and she flung out an arm to brace against the wall for support, her other hand tightening around her cane.

"Oh my gosh, Clementine!" Sarah gasped, talking half a step back. "I-I'm so sorry, I thought my dad was- I didn't know it was you! Are-are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah… yeah, I'm good," Clementine blinked, her heart rate returning to normal. "It's okay, no harm done."

"Sorry," Sarah said again. "I-I found it in a box in the closet; there was all kinds of old stuff! I got excited, and... I was just messing around, I didn't mean to startle you!"

It was an old polaroid camera, whirring incessantly as it spat out a rapidly-lightening photo. It definitely looked aged and worn, but it seemed to work just fine.

"See?" Sarah handed her the picture. "It's so cool!"

Clementine studied herself in the photo; her dark, curly hair was tangled, her face hollow, and her eyes were wide and startled. The camera's flash gave her skin a ghostly glow… were her eyes really that color? Her clothes were caked with dirt and dried blood, and her hair was getting long… she'd have to cut it soon.

It had been so long since she'd seen herself… it was like looking at a stranger.

"Yeah, it is," Clementine cleared her throat. "Uh, want me to take one of you?"

Sarah's face lit up. "Sure!"

Clementine set her walking stick against the wall, leaning on the doorway for support, and took the camera, which was a lot heavier than she'd anticipated. It felt large and clumsy in her small hands, but she hefted it up and took aim.

Sarah took a few steps back, brushed her hair over her shoulder, and smiled.

"I'm ready!"

_Snap._

The camera flashed. Clementine watched as the photo appeared, transfixed as the image took form. She pulled the picture free and studied it, tucking the camera under her arm. It didn't really do Sarah justice; it couldn't quite capture the brightness of her eyes, but it was a nice shot nevertheless.

"Looks good." She told Sarah, handing the other girl the photo with a smile.

Sarah took the picture and the camera, setting the latter down on the bed. "Yeah, thanks…" She played with her hair absentmindedly, looking at the photo. "I… didn't realize I'd grown so much."

"You're not _that_ old…" Clementine said teasingly. Her smile faded when she realized Sarah's expression had sobered. "Uh, are you okay?"

It was now occurring to Clementine that they had hardly spoken since their first meeting… since she first realized her leg was gone… maybe that was still bothering her? It wasn't like they'd been able to talk about it, and Carlos sure as hell hadn't… perhaps she was just feeling awkward? Like she didn't know what to say?

The reality of it was, they barely even knew each other. Clementine had felt an instant connection, but maybe it was too much to expect for them to click instantly.

"Hey, Clementine..?" Sarah spoke delicately, like she was afraid she'd shatter if she was any louder. "I- I'm sorry I haven't been down to see you a lot… it's not that I don't want to hang out with you, I _do_ , I promise! It's just that… I mean, I can't-" She bit her lip.

"Your dad didn't want you around me?" Clementine guessed. 

Sarah nodded, glancing away. "He- he said that you needed some time to recover- I didn't want to bother you! I- I get it, needing to be alone sometimes, a-and with everything that's happened, I thought you might not… not want me to…"

_So **that** was it. Carlos, you asshole._

"Don't worry, I'm not mad or anything," Clementine assured her. "I… I'd like us to be friends."

"Really?" Sarah looked hopeful beyond belief. "Me too! We can be friends, we can be _best_ friends!"

Clementine knew the _real_ reason Carlos didn't want his daughter around her. He thought she'd be a bad influence, she could tell. Sarah seemed pretty sheltered, and Carlos didn't want her ruining that. She could understand wanting to protect your family, but Carlos wouldn't always be around. Sarah would have to learn to fend for herself, sooner or later.

Preferably sooner.

The thing was, Clementine almost agreed with him. It had been so long since she'd met someone like Sarah; someone whose eyes were still bright, despite all they'd seen… the thought of the other girl losing her child-like spark of innocence made Clementine's heart tighten painfully.

But the bottom line was that Sarah needed to be able to rely on herself. And if Clementine was the only one willing to teach her, then so be it.

"Good," Clementine smiled. "It'll be nice to hang out with someone around my age. If I have to hear one more dumb college story, I'm gonna lose it."

"I can't believe Luke and Nick have so many!" Sarah giggled. "Oh, we can have so much fun! And I can read you my book some more! I-I already finished it, but I'm reading it again from the start, so it won't be that hard to catch you up. And we can-" She noticed Clementine's grin and blushed. "I-I'm sorry, it's just I haven't had a friend in _forever!"_

Clementine could relate, and she found Sarah's excitement refreshing.

"I mean, you're feeling better, right?" Sarah tucked her hair behind her ear. "Better than before, at least? My dad said that I should give you some space until you're feeling better, but I figured you _must_ be, because here you are! And I-" She broke off, like a thought had just occurred to her, and knit her brows together. "Um, Clementine? Where _is_ my dad?"

Clementine had been expecting this.

"I… I know something's going on," Sarah continued. "They might not tell me everything, but I can see when something's wrong… if something's happening, I-I need to know."

"You're right," Clementine told her. "You do need to know; you're a part of this group too, and it's not fair for everyone to keep you in the dark…" She took a deep breath. "But… it's not good news."

"Okay…" Sarah said warily.

"Yesterday, Pete and Nick went to go check the fish traps," Clementine began. "They didn't come back. Luke and Alvin went to find them, but then _they_ didn't come back, either. Your dad and Rebecca went to go look for them."

Sarah's eyes widened, her face going pale. "Oh no," She breathed. "I'm sorry, I- I just n-need to-" Her breathing hitched, and she sank to the floor, tucking her knees into her chest.

"Sarah?" Clementine grabbed her cane and pushed off the wall, taking a few steps towards the other girl, who was taking rapid, shallow breaths. Sarah curled in on herself even more, and Clementine backed off.

She didn't know what was happening; she didn't know what to do. She'd just have to wait for Sarah to ride it out. Moving slowly, she lowered herself to the ground, not too close to crowd Sarah, but close enough. And she waited.

It took a couple minutes, but eventually Sarah's breathing slowed and leveled out. She was breathing very deliberately; inhaling deeply through her nose, and blowing the air out her mouth, her eyes closed.

"Hey there," Clementine tried again, speaking calmly. "Are you okay, Sarah?"

"Y-yes," Sarah took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "Sorry, I- sometimes I just have to- I'm s-sorry."

"It's alright," Clementine said. "I know it's a lot to take in. But they know what they're doing, I'm sure they're all going to be okay."

Sarah made a noncommittal noise. "A-are you sure?"

"Well, not really," Clementine admitted, wanting to be honest with Sarah. "But your dad only just left a few minutes ago. He'll probably be back with the others before we know it." At least, that's what she was hoping.

Sarah visibly relaxed. "Oh, okay. You're probably right… but… what if they don't come back? What do we do, we're just kids!"

"We'll figure something out," Clementine told her. "I've made it on my own before." Not very successfully, but Sarah didn't need to know that.

Sarah studied her for a moment before her expression hardened, like she'd made up her mind about something. "I want to show you something, but you can't tell anyone, okay?" She looked up at Clementine nervously. _"Especially_ my dad."

"Okay..?" Clementine raised an eyebrow.

Sarah reached underneath the bedside table, rummaging around for a second before standing up. "Look, I found this," It was a gun; a sleek, silver hand gun. "It's not loaded. I.. I was wondering if you- could you teach me how to shoot it?"

Clementine weighed her options. She'd already disobeyed Carlos once, and this seemed like _exactly_ the kind of thing he didn't want Sarah doing. But at this point, Sarah learning to defend herself was more important than Carlos' opinion of her, and she knew it was the right thing to do. The simple fact that Sarah didn't know how to shoot already was more than enough proof.

"Alright," Clementine said, wracking her brains for everything she'd learned about guns. "But it's not a toy." She pushed herself up, leaning on her walking stick.

"I know," Sarah stood up, gripping the gun in both hands. "So what do I do?"

"Well, first off, never point it at anybody unless you intend to shoot," Clementine said. "Same thing goes for the trigger; don't go near it unless you're actually going to pull it, because that's how you misfire."

"Okay," Sarah took a deep breath. "I'll be careful."

"Good," Clementine adjusted Sarah's grip on the gun. "Now aim at that knot on the wall. You're gonna want to look right over the top of the gun, and keep both eyes open."

"Alright," Sarah lifted the gun, squinting at the wall. "Like this?"

"Don't lock your elbows." Clementine said gently.

Sarah relaxed her upper body. "That's a lot to remember." She noted.

"It'll all become second nature after a little while," Clementine assured her. "Now you're ready to shoot. Before you do, take a small breath, and let it out with the trigger, okay? Squeeze the trigger nice and easy, and get off it quick so you can shoot again."

"Okay. Is that all?" Sarah asked, testing the trigger.

"Always aim for the head," Clementine said. "And remember, it's just a thing, a tool. Nothing to be afraid of. How do you feel?"

"Good, I think. Thanks for showing me," Sarah lowered the gun. "I.. think I'd feel a little better if I actually practiced shooting, but… my dad's never going to let me… do you think we could practice outside? With some real bullets? There's that tree in the front yard…" She walked over to the window, brushing back the curtains.

Clementine chewed her lip. She wasn't sure it was a good idea to actually fire real bullets without adult supervision. What if something went wrong? What if Sarah got hurt? What if the noise attracted walkers, or bandits, or-

"Hey, Luke's back!" Sarah said suddenly, her hands pressed against the window.

"Really?" Clementine made her way over to the window. She just barely caught sight of a retreating shadow. "Just Luke? Why isn't Alvin with him?"

"I don't know," Sarah stowed the gun back under the nightstand. "Maybe I missed him. Let's go see."

"Okay." Clementine followed Sarah out of the bedroom, pausing at the top of the staircase.

"Um... do you need help?" Sarah asked hesitantly, her brown eyes filled with uncertainty. She was pointedly avoiding looking at Clementine's stump leg.

"No, it's okay, I can handle stairs," Clementine assured her. "Go on ahead, I'll meet you there."

"Alright, if you're sure..."

Going down the stairs was a bit trickier than going up them, and it was a lot louder, too. Clementine flinched every time she hopped onto another step, thudding against the wood. Her grip on the banister was so tight her knuckles were white, brows furrowed in concentration.

She made it to the living room without incident, leaning on the railing to catch her breath. Her foot ached, and she decided that she wouldn't go upstairs anymore unless she absolutely had to. Going down took too much effort.

Clementine froze when she saw Sarah, who had her back pressed against the wall, peering around the corner at the door. She zeroed in on Clementine, her eyes wild and frantic.

"That's not Luke." Sarah whispered.

"What?" Clementine's stomach dropped. "Then who-"

_Knock knock knock._

They both jumped.

"Clementine? I-I think I know him," Sarah breathed. "He can't see me, you have to get rid of him, make him go away! _Please."_

"What?" Clementine's heart began to race. "Who is he?"

_Knock knock knock._

"Please, you have to do something!" Sarah pleaded.

"Shh, it's okay, I'll take care of it," Clementine said quietly. "Go hide."

"Where?!"

_Knock knock knock._

"Hello..?"

Sarah's face paled. "It's him… oh no, please, Clementi- I can't breathe, I c-can't breathe…" She was starting to hyperventilate, her eyes wide and panicked.

Clementine held a finger to her lips. "I'll handle it." She murmured.

She crept forward, as quietly as she could, but it was nearly impossible to be stealthy when you were essentially hopping on one foot. Her mind was racing, frantically trying to plot out a course of action. It could be anyone... what if it was one of the bandits that attacked her and Christa? What could she do, she was unarmed, and there was no telling when the others would be back. Clementine was almost at the door now, and her heart skipped a beat.

_The door was unlocked._

Clementine reached for the knob, her fingers just brushing the lock, before it turned under her hand. The door was forced open, and she stumbled back, grabbing the door for support. Her breathing hitched as the stranger spoke.

"Hello."

The stranger was a man, with a low, raspy voice and a Southern lilt. His face was rugged, his jaw lined with stubble, and his eyes were cold and calculating, contrasting sharply with his warm tone. His brown, wavy hair was graying; he seemed to be around his mid-to-late forties, if Clementine had to guess. He was wearing a worn, brown jacket with matted fur at the collar, and there was a gun at his hip.

"Hello..." She said, looking up at him warily.

"Hey there. How are ya?" The man said kindly, giving her a grin that was all teeth.

"... good. How are you?" Clementine asked, her tone and expression carefully neutral.

"Well, I"m doin' just fine, thank you," The stranger said warmly. "Me and my family are set up a ways down the river. I'm... kinda surprised we haven't run into each other yet. What's your name?"

Clementine didn't believe it for a second. "What's _your_ name?" She countered.

The man chuckled. "My name's George, honey," He told her. He offered Clementine his hand, which she pointedly ignored, quirking an eyebrow. "Pleasure to meet you," An edge of sarcasm dripped into his voice before his friendly expression dropped. "Mind if I come in for a bit?"

"Yes." Clementine said bluntly, attempting to close the door again.

George caught the door with his foot. "Now, there's no need to be rude," He frowned, pushing the door open. "I just want to-"

As he forced the door open, Clementine stumbled backwards, catching herself on her cane. George paused, his eyes landing on her stump. He looked back up at Clementine, and she realized with a chill that not an ounce of pity flashed across his face. There was no sympathy there; he was simply adding another advantage he had over her to the list.

Clementine held her ground, staring back at him defiantly. "You need to leave." She insisted.

Something changed in George's face. He almost looked... impressed. But he ignored her anyways, brushing past her into the living room. Clementine had no choice but to follow him.

"Nice place you got here," George said, his eyes sweeping the room appraisingly. "Is there anyone else around? You don't usually see cabins this big out here."

"Well, we have a big group," Clementine said, which wasn't entirely untrue. "Lots."

"Oh? How big?" George asked.

"Dozens," Clementine's grip on her cane tightened. "They should be back real soon."

"And they left you here, all alone?" George raised an eyebrow. "They must trust you. Lots," The corner of his mouth turned up in a sneer. "Especially with that leg of yours."

Clementine felt like she'd been punched. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I'm just sayin'," George shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a gleam of satisfaction in his eye. Like he could tell he'd struck a nerve. "You're already at a disadvantage, bein' a little girl and all, but now you're practically useless, huh?"

Clementine flinched. "Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about." Her voice wavered, and she hated it.

"You know, a prosthetic would be a lot better than that cane," George continued casually. "Keep your hands free, and keep you balanced. I know a fella with a talent for those sorts of things, if you're interested."

"I said, shut up!" Clementine's face was burning, and phantom pains ran up and down her leg.

"Alright, alright," George held his hands up. "Didn't mean to pry. But it's something to think about, eh?" He turned and walked into the kitchen.

Clementine was seething, but at the same time she wanted to cry. It was too soon; her feelings were too raw to take that kind of talk. It was like he'd dug up every little insecurity about her leg and thrown it back in her face, and she wasn't prepared to deal with it yet.

_Get a grip._

As long as George was here, they weren't safe. She had to get him to leave.

Clementine took a deep breath, brushed away her tears, and followed him into the kitchen, her cane thumping on the wooden floor.

George scanned the empty kitchen with disdain. It almost seemed like he was looking for something. His eyes landed on a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, and he wrinkled his nose. "Well, it looks like a damn tornado ran through here." He said, turning to Clementine.

"We have a big group, remember?" Clementine reminded him, her eyes narrowed.

George grunted in response, his eyes wandering around the kitchen. Clementine's gaze fell on a knife lying on the counter, and her breath caught in her throat.

Her first instinct told her to grab it, but she hesitated. He had a gun; what good would a kitchen knife do against that? If a fight broke out, she was as good as dead, and then what would happen to Sarah? But still, something urged her to grab the knife. She'd feel better with something to defend herself with. Could she grab it without George noticing?

Before Clementine could act on her thoughts, George noticed her eyeing the knife and darted forward, grabbing it before she could even move. He was a lot faster than he looked. He turned to Clementine, displeasure written across his face.

"Where does this go?" He asked steadily.

Clementine didn't respond, her composure wavering. Why wouldn't he just leave?

After a couple seconds, George tossed the knife into a drawer and slammed it shut, making Clementine jump. He shifted his gaze to her and raised an eyebrow.

"So how'd you lose that leg, honey?" George asked bluntly.

Clementine bristled, her fingernail digging into her walking stick. "What do you think happened, I cut it off for kicks?" She spat.

"It was a simple question," George said, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You should be a little more respectful."

"And you should mind your own damn business!" Clementine retorted. This was getting too close for comfort; it was almost like he was testing her, seeing how far he could push her.

George brushed past her back into the living room, once again leaving Clementine no choice but to follow.

"Well, this is a real nice place," He reverted back to his friendly demeanor like nothing had happened. "Kinda cozy..." He took interest in a game of chess sitting out on the coffee table. "Well, well... white's in trouble," George said. "Three moves away from checkmate."

Out of the corner of her eye, Clementine saw Sarah climbing the staircase, her eyes wide with fear behind her red glasses. She quickly averted her gaze from the other girl so as not to give her away.

"You play chess?" She asked, hoping to keep George's attention on her and away from Sarah.

"Sure do," He turned to Clementine. "You?"

"No, not really," She shrugged. "I never really learned."

"Now that's a shame," George folded his arms, eyes straying to the board. "It's an enjoyable game. Time consuming, but rewarding. Good for the mind," His focus returned to Clementine. "Maybe someone in that big group of yours can teach you?"

"Yeah, maybe..." Clementine forced a smile. At the edge of her vision, she could see Sarah disappear behind her bedroom door. Relief flooded through her; Sarah was safe, for the time being.

George cleared his throat. "Well, I'll cut to the chase," He said gruffly. "I'm out lookin' for my people. Seven of them, to be exact. They've been gone for a long while, and... I'm worried they might've gotten lost. Maybe you've seen 'em? Couple'a farm boys and an old man. A doctor, Spanish guy, and his daughter. Quiet girl, a bit taller than you. A big black guy, and a pretty little pregnant lady."

Clementine fought to keep her expression neutral. Whoever this man was, he knew her friends, and something about him told her they weren't on good terms with each other. Sarah was here; there was no telling what George would do if he found her. She had to make sure that didn't happen. She had to protect them.

"I haven't seen anyone like that." Clementine lied, fighting down the panic rising in her chest.

"Oh? Are you sure?" George's smile was a hair's breadth away from a sneer. "You got a big group, right? One of 'em might be hidin' in plain sight."

He didn't believe that she wasn't with them. Clementine's mind scrambled for something, _anything_ … if he thought the group was living here, there was no telling what he'd do.

"Nope," Clementine tried to sound nonplussed. "No one in my group matches your descriptions. There's me and my dad, Lee. Kenny and his wife, Katjaa, and their son Duck. I guess Ben could be described as a farm boy, but he's only seventeen, you weren't looking for a teenager, were you? There's Chuck; he's an old man, but we found him in Savannah, so he can't be the same guy. There's Mark, Larry, Lilly, Molly, Omid… and Christa isn't pregnant anymore," Her face darkened. "We lost the baby about a year ago."

"Well, I am truly sorry," George stroked his chin thoughtfully. The fact that she used names seemed to be swaying him. "And you sure you haven't seen anyone like that?"

"I remember everyone we meet," Clementine said, her heart rate returning to normal. "I'm sorry I can't help you, but you really need to leave now."

George made a noncommittal noise. "I.. suppose so. Sorry to barge in, I was just-" He paused, his eyebrows furrowing. "What was that?"

"What?" Clementine's heart jolted.

"I heard something upstairs," George looked at her accusingly. "I thought you said you were here alone?"

"I am! There's no one here!" Clementine insisted.

George's eyes narrowed. He glanced up at the ceiling, drew his gun, and started creeping towards the staircase. Clementine's breathing hitched. She had to warn Sarah!

As she followed George up the stairs, she made sure to hit her walking stick on the steps a little harder than necessary, making enough noise to alert Sarah.

"Keep it down, will ya?" George whispered.

"Sorry, I can't help it." Clementine gave him a helpless smile.

"Stay down here, then."

"No. It's _my_ house, remember."

Grumbling, George reached the second floor and paused in front of the bedroom door. Finger on the trigger, he nudged the door open with his foot and pushed into the room, gun first.

It was empty.

George lowered his gun, his gaze sweeping around the room. Clementine leaned against the door frame, quickly looking for any sign of Sarah. She caught sight of the other girl's jacket sleeve underneath the bed. George was too tall to see it, unless he intentionally checked under the bed. Clementine just hoped he would leave before it came to that.

"See? I told you, there's nobody here." Clementine crossed her arms.

"Looks that way," George muttered, slipping his pistol back into its holster. "My bad. Couldn't leave you here in good conscience if someone was poking around, right?"

Clementine refrained from pointing out that that was _exactly_ what he was doing, and gave him a weak smile instead. "I guess so."

George turned to leave, but something caught his eye. He stooped over to pick it up, dangerously close to Sarah's hiding spot, but he straightened up again. "Who is this?" George asked, holding up the picture of Sarah.

"I don't know," Clementine shrugged, her heart pounding. "Maybe someone who lived here before? We haven't been here long."

"Hm," George studied her, his eyes narrowed. He didn't believe her. "That so?" He tucked the picture into his jacket pocket, and Clementine bit her tongue. He studied her for a moment. "Let me ask you this. When you met 'em, how much did they trust you?"

Clementine stiffened, her mind racing back to the shed.

Their initial distrust of her had almost cost Clementine her life. They'd had no reason to believe she was lying, but they locked her in the shed anyways. But they trusted her now, didn't they? She had no reason to doubt them... did she?

"That's what I thought," A cruel, satisfied smile made its way across George's face. "If people don't trust you, how can you trust them?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Clementine said cooly, masking her internal panic with indifference.

"Well, I think I've troubled you long enough," George said, a triumphant glint in his eye. "I can let myself out."

Clementine stepped aside as George passed her, swallowing hard. She should be relieved, shouldn't she? He was leaving now, but he had left so much uncertainty... Clementine wasn't sure how to feel. She rushed out into the hallway as George headed towards the front door, gripping the banister with one hand and her cane with the other.

"Don't come back!"

George looked up at her and smiled. "You have a real good day, now."

The front door shut. Clementine exhaled shakily. It was over, but what did it mean for them now?

There was a rustling sound back in the bedroom. She turned to see Sarah pulling herself out from under the bed. Both girls moved towards the window, the air heavy with tension.

"Where is he?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling.

"He's gone." Clementine's voice was hollow.

"What if he comes back?"

Clementine's face darkened. Whoever this man was, he was dangerous. He knew how to read people; how to make them doubt themselves with a few choice words, and that scared her more than anything. A deep, seething hatred settled around Clementine's heart.

"Then I'll make him wish he hadn't."

~

**Part I End**


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Okay, first of all, I'm _so_ sorry for the long delay! I hadn't intended for the hiatus to last this long, but life got in the way. Long story short, there was a death in the family. I'm okay now, so don't worry, but things were hard for a while. On top of that, I started taking college classes, as well as dance and theater. I'll try to update regularly for now until the end of Part II. Thanks for your patience and understanding, and your continued support.
> 
> **Warnings for this chapter:** Mentions of death, guns, language, and violence.

Clementine brushed her fingers over the gun in her lap, trying to sort out her thoughts.

After George left, she had retrieved the empty pistol from Sarah's bedroom in case he came back. He wouldn't know it wasn't loaded. She had also drawn the curtains shut, and made sure all the doors were locked. Now they were sitting in the living room, avoiding the conversation they needed to have and jumping at the slightest sound.

Sarah wasn't doing well. George's surprise visit had left her shaken, more so than she let on. She was staring at the floor, her shoulders hunched and her hands clasped together, as if in prayer. The cabin was quiet, almost unbearably so.

"So who was that guy?" Clementine asked, breaking the silence. "He knew who you were."

"I… I'm not really supposed to talk about it…" Sarah said worriedly.

"Sarah? I need to know what's going on," Clementine pressed gently. "This is important."

"Well…" Sarah glanced away, playing with her hair anxiously. "Okay. We… a few months ago, we were… we were part of a community. It… it wasn't a good place. It was led by a bad man, a man named Carver."

"And that was him?" Clementine guessed, her heart dropping. "Are you sure?"

"I could never forget his voice," Sarah murmured, her eyes haunted. "He… h- he wasn't nice, not at _all._ He had this idea that… that people who were weak didn't deserve to live. That they were a _'drain on the community'_ if they couldn't give back."

Clementine felt a shiver run up her spine. The words were horribly familiar… she remembered a place that lived by the survival of the fittest, a place Molly had once described as _'the worst kind'._

"Things got harder," Sarah's voice trembled. "Food was short. Some people weren't happy with Carver's rationing… and-" Her voice cracked. "And people got desperate… one d- day, a guy, Tony, broke into the storage room and stole some food… Carver caught him doing it. He called everyone in, and he- he said, _'This is what happens when you can't do your part'_ and he j-just, he _shot_ him, right then and there…"

Clementine's heart went out for the other girl. She knew firsthand how horrible it was to see something like that.

"After that, it just got worse… Carver just got meaner and meaner... he especially had a problem with Luke. They didn't agree on how things should be run, and one day Carver just locked him up… like an _animal,"_ Sarah shuddered. "Anyone else who protested got locked up, too. We managed to convince some people on the inside to help us, people who were scared, and wanted out, too. We barely escaped…" Her face darkened. "Some people didn't."

"Wow… I'm sorry you went through that," Clementine told her, eyebrows creased with worry. "So this Carver guy has been chasing after you for all this time?"

"Yeah," Sarah said shakily. "We never really stayed in one place until we were sure we'd lost him. Where we are now is really far from his camp, so we thought we were safe, but…"

Clementine bit her lip. Carver reminded her all too much of another psychopath, one who followed her across a state in the name of putting his family back together. It sounded like he would do _anything_ to get what he wanted.

"That's one hell of a grudge, huh?" Clementine smiled, but there was no real humor behind her words. "Why is he so obsessed with you guys? Why would he go through all this trouble for people who don't even want to be a part of his community?"

"I- I don't know," Sarah wrapped her arms around herself. "He- he has this strange idea that we're all a _family_ … I don't want to go back with him, Clementine! I can't go back to that horrible place!" She was on the verge of tears.

"You won't," Clementine said firmly. "It's going to be okay. The others will be back soon, and they'll know what to do."

At least, she hoped they would. In all honesty, Clementine was on the brink of panic. Their entire group had been missing for hours, now, and with Carver in the woods, she had no idea if they were safe. What if they didn't come back? They couldn't wait forever… Carver would most definitely return with backup, and then they were screwed. She doubted she'd be able to convince Sarah to leave the cabin. And even if she did, how could she hope to protect the other girl? It was still too soon after the amputation; all the activity Carver's visit had brought had left her drained, her leg aching horribly and her bruised ribs still sore and tender.

They wouldn't last a day.

"I… I don't understand…" Sarah whispered. "Why... can't things ever just be _okay?"_

"I don't know," Clementine said. She didn't often allow herself to wallow in self-pity, but right now she was feeling pretty damn bitter. "It's just the way the world is now, and we have to deal with it."

"But why aren't things getting better?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling.

"It has to be better _somewhere,"_ Clementine insisted. "We just have to find it."

Sarah didn't look convinced. "But… it's been three years now, and everywhere we go, it- it's _awful!_ At the beginning, I… I thought things w-would go back to the way they were. Back t-to normal. But they _haven't._ And now… I don't think they ever will." Her breathing hitched, and she tucked her knees to her chest and began to cry.

Clementine's heart clenched. "Look, I know what you're going through," She said quietly. "I've been there. But trust me when I say that you can't give up, no matter how hard it all gets. If we stop believing things will be okay someday, then what's the point of living?"

Sarah looked up at her, her face stained with tears. "D-do you re-really believe tha- at?" She hiccoughed.

"I do," Clementine said solemnly. "I mean, something's kept me going all this time, right?"

"… I g-guess so…" Sarah murmured. "I- I wish I could be strong, like you."

_Knock knock knock._

They both jumped. Someone was trying to open the door.

Sarah stifled a gasp, clapping a hand over her mouth as fresh tears streamed down her face, her eyes wide with terror.

Clementine froze, gripping the gun so tightly her knuckles turned white. She listened intently, heart pounding in her chest, hardly daring to breathe.

"Uh, Clementine? You there? It's me, Luke… the door's locked… hello?"

She almost cried with relief. Luke was back! They were safe now; he'd know what to do. Everything was going to be okay.

Sarah practically bolted for the door. "I'll go let them in," She called over her shoulder. "Coming, Luke!"

Clementine pushed herself up, ignoring the pain that shot up her leg. She stared at the gun in her hand for a moment, biting her lip, before tucking it into her waistband. Cane in hand, she made her way to the kitchen in time so see Luke shuffle in, giving her a weak smile.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, Luke," Clementine scolded him. "What were you thinking?"

Luke winced. "Okay, we didn't mean to take so long, alright? It was a-"

"No, the _door,"_ Sarah cut in. "You scared us."

"Huh?" Luke furrowed his eyebrows. "Well, the door was locked, what did you expect?"

Carlos, Alvin and Rebecca filtered in, looking a little worse for wear, but unharmed, and most importantly, alive. Clementine breathed a sigh of relief, but the breath quickly caught in her throat; not everyone was there.

"Wait, where's Pete? And Nick?" She demanded, fear gripping her stomach.

Luke closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. Rebecca and Alvin exchanged a look. Carlos inhaled slowly, as if bracing himself.

"Pete's dead," The doctor said. "We found his body at the river."

Clementine froze, her eyes widening. For a moment, she couldn't breathe, couldn't speak or move; her mind screamed that it wasn't possible while her heart sank at her worse fears coming true. How many times had she heard those words? How many people had she lost now? Why had she gotten attached, she should know better by now, _why did she let herself get attached,_ this always happened, she should've known, it wasn't fair, it wasn't _fair-_

She squeezed her eyes shut, banished the tears forming, and sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself. She wrestled her emotions under control, gripping her walking stick so tightly it hurt, _Pete's walking stick; it was Pete's he made it for her-_

_Stop._

Clementine let out the breath she was holding and opened her eyes, meeting Luke's concerned gaze. When she finally trusted herself to speak, it came out as a rasp.

"I'm so sorry," She told him. "What happened?"

"Shot to the head," Luke said grimly. "He wasn't the only one. There must'a been almost ten bodies there, all shot to pieces."

"Do you know who did it?" Clementine had an idea.

"No," Luke glanced away, his voice odd. "No clue."

"Nick wasn't there," Alvin put in, subtly changing the subject. "He must have escaped. We were gonna look for him, but then lurkers showed up and we had to run."

"We, uh, we got a little lost," Luke rubbed the back of his neck. "We ended up spending the night in an abandoned delivery truck. In the morning we tried to find our way back, but it took a while. Eventually we ran into these two," He gestured at Carlos and Rebecca. "And we all came home together."

"Uh, Clementine?" Alvin spoke up. "We found this at the river, and I remembered you said you and your friend were attacked by bandits, is this yours, by any chance?" He slung a familiar purple backpack off his shoulder and held it out to her. "I.. I figured it might belong to a little girl or somethin', so…"

Clementine took it, her eyes widening. "Yeah, it is," She looked back up at Luke. "You- you didn't find Christa there, did you?"

"No," Luke reassured her. "I checked, just in case. She wasn't there."

Leaning against the wall, Clementine opened the backpack. She didn't have much, but what little she had the bandits hadn't touched, minus a bottle of water. It was mostly old drawings that weren't good for anything except fire fuel, but the stupid little backpack reminded her of before, when things were better. It was a comfort, albeit a small one.

Clementine zipped it back up. "Thank you," She said, looking between Alvin and Luke. "I… thanks."

"No problem." Alvin replied.

Sarah tugged on Clementine's shirt sleeve, tilting her head a little. Her expression was severe, her eyes urgent.

"Right," Clementine's heart sank even further. "We.. have something to tell you."

"There was a man here." Sarah said quietly.

"What?" Carlos spluttered.

"He seemed to know you guys." Clementine said, glancing at Luke for explanation. She already knew about Carver, but Sarah wasn't supposed to have told her about it. For some reason, the group didn't want to tell her, and that made her uneasy. Every group had their own history, and they had a right to keep it to themselves, but when it put them all in danger... didn't they trust her?

"A man came in here?" Luke repeated.

"And you just let him in?" Rebecca demanded.

"Of course not!" Clementine said defensively. "He forced his way in, there wasn't anything I could do!"

"Clementine handled it," Sarah spoke up. "She made him go away."

"Did he see you?" Carlos asked urgently. "Sarah, did he see you at all?"

"No, I hid," Sarah said hesitantly. "But... he- he saw a picture of me."

"He _what?_ Sarah, what were you doing taking pictures?" Carlos reprimanded her. "You should know better!"

"It was my idea," Clementine said quickly. "Not hers."

Sarah gave her a small smile.

"She didn't know, Carlos," Luke put a hand on the doctor's shoulder. "It's not her fault."

"What don't I know?" Clementine asked, giving Luke a pointed look.

"What did he look like?" Rebecca was growing more and more distressed. "His age, his clothes?"

"We know damn well who it was, Bec." Alvin said, his voice dark.

"No, we don't," Rebecca shot back before turning to Clementine. "What was he like? His voice?"

"Well, he was an older man, with brownish gray hair and stubble, about average height," Clementine recalled. "He was wearing an old, long coat, and his voice was… gravelly."

"Fuck…" Rebecca muttered, her dark brown eyes widening. "What're we going to do?"

"There's only one thing we can do," Carlos shook his head bitterly. "We have to leave."

"But Nick's still out there!" Luke protested. "He needs our help!"

"And what would you have us do?" Carlos demanded, turning on Luke. "Wait for them all to catch up to us? We can't afford to waste any time, not after what happened to Pete."

"Saving our friend is _not_ a waste of time." Luke retorted.

"We have to think about what's best for the group," Carlos' voice rose. "We don't even know if he's _alive,_ Luke!"

"That's _enough!"_ Clementine interrupted before Luke could respond. "You both need to get a hold of yourselves and calm down. This isn't helping. Whatever we're going to do, we need to do it fast. He'll be back with reinforcements, and right now we're just wasting time."

"She's right," Rebecca put in. "We need to move."

"Alright, I'm sorry," Carlos pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know how hard this is for you, Luke. We'll look for Nick on the way out, okay? But if we stick around too long, we're done for."

"Fine," Luke's voice was clipped. "I get it." He left the kitchen without another word, his footsteps thudding up the stairs.

Sarah grabbed Clementine's arm. "Are... are we going to be okay?" She asked, her eyes filled with tears.

"We'll figure it out," Clementine said reassuringly. "Alright?" She shot Carlos a stern look. He should've known better than to upset Sarah like that. It was a lot to take in, between Pete's death and Nick's disappearance, and fighting just made everything worse.

"Listen, sweetie," Carlos knelt down, putting a hand on Sarah's shoulder. "I know things are confusing right now, but we have to leave. These are bad men, you know that, and we can't let them find us. We'll go somewhere safer, somewhere new, okay? I won't let them get to you."

"Okay," Sarah took a shaky breath, her resolve wavering. "But wha- what about Nick?"

"There might not be time to look for him," Carlos said resignedly. "Do you understand?"

"I... I think so." Sarah mumbled.

"Good," Carlos nodded. "Let's go pack your things."

Sarah looked over at Clementine, who gave her a reassuring smile, before following her father out of the room. Clementine swallowed, glancing over at Alvin and Rebecca. Carver's reappearance had everyone spooked, but she had never seen Rebecca so shaken.

Alvin was clearly struggling as well, a mixture of emotions fighting for dominance on his face. That dark expression was so unlike him, fitting oddly on his kind and gentle face, that Clementine was greatly unnerved. Apparently she didn't know everything about Carver.

"It's gonna be okay, Bec," Alvin said quietly. "You know I won't let nothing' happen to you."

"I know," Rebecca gave him a forced smile. "I… I'll go pack our things."

Alvin watched his wife go, a frown on his face. Clementine could guess where his thoughts were going; Rebecca was hiding something, and he didn't like that one bit. Though Clementine wasn't an expert on relationships, the whole thing still put her off; you were supposed to tell each other everything, right? If Rebecca didn't feel like she could trust her own husband, how could she ever trust anyone else? The thought was troubling.

"I better go help her." Alvin murmured, more to himself than anything.

"Alvin, wait…" Clementine chewed the inside of her cheek, making a sudden decision. "I found this," She slipped the empty gun from her waistband, holding it out to the man. "It's empty; I was just holding on to it in case that guy came back." Alvin was probably the best person to tell; he wouldn't overreact like Carlos might, and he wouldn't read too much into it like Luke would. Still, she decided to keep Sarah's training session to herself. If Carlos ever heard about that, her days were numbered.

"Oh," Alvin blinked, taking the pistol. "Uh, thank you. We actually lost the damn thing a couple weeks back, so…" He studied her, like he was seeing her in a different light.

Clementine realized suddenly that he wouldn't have expected her to give it back. It was empty, but it was a weapon, which she was currently lacking in right now. She was more vulnerable now than ever before, and the obvious choice would have been to keep the gun for herself. And she probably would have, had things turned out differently.

She knew her stunt with the shed had labeled her as some kind of survival extremist, but in order to rely on these people she had to know they trusted her, and trust was hard to come by nowadays. Something as simple as finding out she was concealing one of their guns, even an empty one, would lead them to think she had ulterior motives, and she couldn't afford that now.

Clementine gave Alvin a smile. She hated how complicated things were now, but she knew how to play the game.

Alvin returned her smile, and she knew she made the right choice.

~

Nick dug his heels in, struggling to keep the doors shut.

The metal handles bit into his shoulder. The wood groaned beneath the lurker's savage assault, their snarls ringing in his ears. His body shook under the effort, his breaths coming in short bursts.

Shit shit shit. He couldn't carry on like this.

His eyes darted around the dimply lit room. It was some kind of cellar, or storage shed, with dusty concrete floors. The rusty metal racks lining the walls were empty. He needed something to bar the doors, a piece of wood or a pipe… if only he hadn't lost his rifle…

His gaze fell on a wooden crate in the corner of the room. It looked fairly sturdy, slightly taller than his knees, but he had no idea how much it actually weighed. If the wood was splintered or rotten then it wouldn't hold.

A particularly heavy blow landed on the doors, almost throwing Nick off them. His head slammed back against the wood, his teeth rattling. _Fuck._ Fine. Whatever he was going to do, he had to do it fast.

He needed something to hold the door when he went for the crate. It only had to hold for a few seconds. He needed something, anything… Nick looked around for something to jam into the handles, but nothing was within reach…

Damn it.

Nick dropped his chin to his shoulder and clamped the fabric of his shirt in his jaw. With a sharp tug, the sleeve ripped at the seams. He used his other hand to tear the fabric the rest of the way until the sleeve dropped down his arm. Moving quickly, he tied the shirt sleeve around the handles, his fingers automatically tying an extravagant knot. At least Boy Scouts wasn't a complete fucking waste of time.

He tested the knot to see if it was secure before taking a deep breath. He had to move now or he'd loose his nerve.

Nick abandoned the doors and bolted for the crate, his heart pounding. He relieved to find that it was heavy; now he knew it would be able to hold the doors shut. Making his way back to the doors was slow going. He almost dropped the box on his foot more than once, his nerves making him unsteady.

The doors strained under the lurker's force, his shirt sleeve starting to tear. Right before the doors burst open, Nick dropped the crate in front of them, forcing them closed again. The doors shook in their hinges, but the box didn't move.

Nick dropped to the floor with a cry of relief. His whole body was shaking, his heart beating so fast it felt like it'd burst out of his chest.

Fucking lurkers. Always had to ruin everything.

He tucked his knees to his chest, his face crumpling. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Would the group come looking for him? Did they know he was in trouble? Did they know Pete was dead?

_Goddammit._

The tears came without warning, streaking down his face and leaving wet trails in their wake. Now that he had a moment to breathe, and wasn't running from Carver's men or lurkers or _whatever,_ it suddenly felt real. He could hardly recall what happened at the river. It felt like a dream, like what he was watching unfold was some twisted creation of his mind.

But he could still hear the gunshot, its echo ringing in his ears. He had turned around in time to see Pete fall to the ground, to see that spray of red. Everything had felt like it was in slow motion. His throat was sore; he might've screamed, but he couldn't remember.

Everything after that was a blur. Someone shot at him. He ran.

They followed him into the forest. He didn't know how long he ran, but at some point lurkers had showed up. One of them almost got him; in the struggle he'd dropped his rifle. He didn't know if his pursuers had retreated, or if they'd met their end at a lurker's bite. Maybe they were still out there, looking for him.

Fuck. Why was he so useless? Pete would've known what to do. But now he was dead and Nick was on his own. And what had he done? Cornered himself in a goddamn cellar, with no weapon and no way out. _Fucking hell._

He was bad at this. _Surviving._ Maybe everyone would've been better off if he had been killed, and not Pete. Hell, what would Pete say if he could see him now? Moping around, feeling sorry for himself… _pathetic._

Nick angrily wiped away his tears. He couldn't do anything right, and now he was probably going to die because of his own stupidity. What was he supposed to do?

Something caught his eye, glinting in the corner of the room. Nick shuffled towards it, pulling the cardboard box closer to examine it.

It was filled with glass jars of some dark, murky liquid. Moonshine.

Nick almost laughed. It felt like some cruel joke the universe was playing on him. _'Oh, sorry your uncle is dead, but hey, now you can get drunk off your ass!'_ Fucking typical.

Why the hell not?


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Mentions/discussion of past rape, mentions of death and violence, slight blood and gore, and language. 
> 
> A/N: Hey readers, thanks to those who left kudos last chapter (please don't hesitate to leave a comment, your feedback means the world to me!) This chapter contains some mentions/discussion of past rape/sexual assault, so proceed with caution. It's not descriptive, and it's not Clementine, so don't worry about that, but tread carefully. You know your comfort zone better than I do. - Aqua

Clementine cradled the small wooden bird in her hands.

It was a gift from Pete; his very last. It was hard to appreciate its beauty now, with that dark cloud hanging over it. It was weird how your emotions could change your perception of things. Before, the bird had a carefree sort of feel to it, happily preening away at its feathers, but now it almost looked like the bird was hiding its face away in its wing, painting a hopeless image.

Tossing the wooden carving into her backpack, Clementine cleared her throat. She hated being so sentimental… everything would be a lot easier if she didn't care about other people. Not for the first time, she wished that she was one of those cold, unfeeling survivors who didn't get attached; that way she couldn't have to deal with this pain.

Pete's whittling knife sat out on the coffee table. It hurt to think about those hours spent with the old man, trying in vain to learn a skill he'd spent a lifetime perfecting in a few afternoons. Perhaps someday she could look fondly back at those memories, but for now the pain was just too raw.

Clementine pushed herself up off the couch, taking a second to catch her balance. Her fingers curled around her walking stick; another gift from Pete. She snatched up the whittling knife and turned it over in her hand, studying it. It was a quality knife, with a tarnished silver blade and a leather handle, but it wouldn't be useful for much else aside from whittling.

There were footsteps on the staircase, and Clementine glanced up, brushing the tears from her eyes.

"Hey, Clem," Luke greeted her, his voice weary. He was strapping a silver watch to his wrist, a backpack slung over his shoulder. "You all set to go?"

"Uh, yeah," Clementine didn't have much to pack in the first place. "I… I found Pete's whittling knife. Did you… want to hold on to it, or..?"

"No, you can keep it," Luke said. "Never cared much for whittling… Nick didn't, either. Doesn't," He quickly corrected himself. "I mean, you can ask Nick when we find him, but I've got the feeling he'll want you to have it."

"Okay." Clementine tucked the knife into her backpack. Her heart went out for Luke. He had practically known Pete his whole life, and with Nick missing, she couldn't imagine what he was feeling.

Luke sank into one of the armchairs, giving her a tired smile. "Amazing how quickly everything can go to shit, huh?" He sighed. "But I guess you knew that already."

"Luke…" Clementine bit her lip. "I'm sorry about Pete."

"I'm sorry, too," Luke murmured. "You guys were pretty close. But I appreciate it. You think it'll get easier, but…"

"Yeah," Clementine agreed, her throat tight. "It really doesn't."

"I'm worried about Nick," Luke said, rubbing his eyes. "This is gonna be hard on him. Pete was like a dad to him, and it hasn't been long since we lost his mom…"

"How did you two meet?" Clementine asked. "You and Nick?"

"Small town," Luke responded, leaning back in his chair. "We'd seen each other around, but never really talked. Then, first day of school, Nick was cryin' because he missed his mom, alright, and some older kids were givin' him crap about it. So I stepped in and told them to fuck off. Not with those exact words, of course." He said quickly, cracking a grin.

"What happened?" Clementine lowered herself back down onto the sofa, leaning her cane against the arm.

"Truthfully? They left," Luke tilted his head to the side. "Don't think they had it in 'em to beat up a couple'a five-year olds. After that, me and Nick were always together. We got into all kinds of trouble."

"So I've heard." Clementine said with an amused smile.

"We were actually together when all this started. It was me, Nick and his mom, and Pete," Luke's eyes grew distant. "We probably wouldn't have made it, without Pete. Nick especially. I hate to think what would've happened to him if he'd been alone."

"Why is that?" Clementine asked.

"Well, Nick just isn't the kind of person who can deal with stuff like that," Luke scratched the back of his head. "He… I don't know, he probably would've just… he was never built for living like this. Hell, he didn't even like _hunting,_ and suddenly the world expected him to kill people, and lurkers… he's just not that kind of guy."

"Really?" Clementine found it hard to believe. After all, Nick had almost shot her when they first met.

"I know, I know, he doesn't seem like it now," Luke amended. "Truth is, he still gets nervous about pulling the trigger. He's got a quick temper, sure, but he's not one for violence. He can get… depressed, sometimes. Hell, we all do every now and then, but… sometimes I worry he'll just get sick of it all one day and give up."

Clementine didn't respond, her stomach knotting. She knelt how it felt to become hopeless… to be tired of living. Some days you just had to wonder… _'what's the point?'_ But too many people had died for her to give up. That's what kept her going, even now, in her darkest times.

It was scary to think that some people didn't have that drive; that need for survival. People like Katjaa, who don't see an end to the suffering, and are forced to find their own means. No one had seen it coming, and that was the worst part.

"You know he's never actually killed anyone?" Luke said suddenly. "I've had to, for self-defense only, alright, but… it changes you. Nick's life could depend on it, but he can't bring himself to shoot a living, breathing human being. That's what saves your life now, and we've had too many close calls…" He trailed off, his eyes clouded with some unreadable emotion. "I didn't like it either, but I had to get used to it quick, to keep everyone alive. Now it's been almost three years, and Nick's _still_ getting used to it."

"Some people adapt better than others." Clementine agreed solemnly.

"Yeah… I guess, growin' up in all this, you don't really have a choice, huh?" Luke sighed.

"I… I've had to kill people," Clementine said quietly, her eyes downcast. "Two. It does change you, but… that's okay, right?"

"Right." Luke's voice was sad.

"One was… a bad man. He… I didn't have a choice, he was going to… it was me or him," Clementine still remembered how her hands shook. She was so small, then, and really, she wasn't much bigger now. "And… I had to shoot Lee," Her voice trembled. "He was bitten, and… it was too late. He… didn't want to turn, so…" A tear streaked down Clementine's face, and she brushed it away quickly. "I was nine. Two in one day… I haven't had to since; Christa and Omid were there. But, if I had to, I think… I think I could," Clementine glanced up at Luke anxiously. "Does… does that make me a bad person?"

"No, of course not," Luke said soothingly. "Who was Lee?"

"Lee was… he was my…" Clementine cleared her throat. "He was my friend. I was alone when it all started. My parents were out of town, and they left me with a babysitter…" Sandra. Poor girl… she hadn't been much older than Sarah, when it happened. "She was the first person that I saw die… I hid in my treehouse for three days, after that. I thought my parents would come back." Her voice hardened. She'd been so foolish.

"What happened?" Luke asked, his voice impossibly soft.

"Lee found me. He took care of me," That barely scratched the surface. "We met up with some other people, and we all tried to make it, but… it didn't work out," Clementine swallowed. "Lee protected me, through it all. He taught me how to survive. He taught me how to shoot a gun." She paused, her eyes welling with tears.

"And then?" Luke prompted gently.

"I was stupid," Clementine said bitterly. "I thought… I could find my parents again. I ran away. There was a man; he said he knew where my parents were. I believed him," She shook her head, laughing harshly. "He was insane. He'd lost his family, and he thought I could replace his dead daughter," Her voice was hoarse. "He took me to a motel in Savannah. Lee came to save me."

God, what a disaster that had been. They lost half their group looking for her; Ben, Kenny, and Lee. They all died because of her. And it had been her stupidity that had cost Omid his life… no matter how many times Christa told Clementine it wasn't her fault, she knew the truth.

"He was bitten. It was my fault; if I hadn't run away, it wouldn't have happened. But he saved me," Clementine's voice was a mixture of sorrow and admiration. "There was a whole hoard outside, but he still saved me. The man who took me… he almost killed Lee, but I- I shot him, before he could."

As horrifying as that had been, Clementine had just been relieved that it was over. She had thought everything would be okay… that they could leave the motel, find their group, and everything would go back to normal.

She was wrong.

"There was only one thing I could do."

_'I'll miss you.'_

_'Me too.'_

Clementine cleared her throat and glanced away. "After that, it was just me and Christa… and Omid," She added, her expression darkening. "But it's just been me and Christa for a while now. She… she's all I have left," She looked back up at Luke. "That's why I have to find her."

Luke blinked, exhaling slowly. "Wow, I… I don't know what to say," He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm… sorry, Clementine, that you went through all that…"

"… it's okay," Clementine said, slightly taken aback. Surely it wasn't anything worse than he'd seen before, or been through himself. "But… thank you."

She hadn't intended to share so much. She found herself talking about things she hadn't spoken about in months, and as hard as it was, once she started she didn't want to stop. A part of her knew it wasn't healthy to bottle everything up, but it was almost impossible to talk to Christa about this stuff. It was too personal for the both of them. Luke was an outsider; he wasn't connected to all the grief and pain. He was someone safe; an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on.

But Clementine had to draw the line somewhere.

The group wasn't a permanent solution; she had to find Christa, and she didn't know what would happen when she did. Pete's death had served as a grim reminder not to get attached… she felt better after sharing with Luke, but it wasn't something she intended to repeat in the near future.

She had to be careful.

"Yeah. If you ever want to talk, let me know, okay?" Luke gave her a tight smile, rising from the arm chair. "I'm gonna go see if Carlos and Sarah are ready…" He trailed off as the pair appeared at the top of the stairs. "Hey."

"Hello," Carlos nodded at them, a pack slung across his back and an arm around Sarah's shoulders. The other girl looked small and frightened, but she managed to offer Clementine a shaky smile. "Before we go, I need to clean your wound," Carlos continued, glancing down at his daughter. "Sarah, you might want to go wait in the kitchen-"

"It's fine, she can stay," Clementine interrupted. "If she wants too, that is." She added, meeting Sarah's eyes.

"… is that okay?" Sarah looked up at her father imploringly.

Carlos' eyebrows furrowed. "Now, honey, I'm not sure I want you seeing stuff like this. It won't be pretty…"

"Oh, come on Carlos, she'll be fine," Luke said amiably. "If she's gonna be a doctor like you, she has to get used to this kinda thing. Either way, hurry up. I'm going to get Alvin and Rebecca, and then we really need to leave, okay?" He brushed past the doctor and went upstairs.

"Alright, fine." Carlos sighed, setting his medical bag down on the coffee table.

"You're training to be a doctor?" Clementine asked Sarah, who sat down on the couch beside her.

"Yeah," Sarah said shyly. "I want to make people feel better, like my dad. I only know small stuff, though, like basic first aid. I know how to splint a sprained ankle, though!"

"That's a good thing to know." Clementine said approvingly.

"Okay, Sarah, this is just a routine cleaning to resist infection," Carlos began, wetting a washcloth with antiseptic. "We do this every twelve hours or so until the wound is closed up. If you have any questions, just ask, I'm sure Clementine won't mind."

"Okay," Sarah said, eyeing the blood-stained bandages nervously. "Will there be a lot of blood?"

"No, there shouldn't be," Carlos replied, pulling some fresh bandages from his bag. "You see that rope on her leg? That's a tourniquet; it stops the blood flow to the area so she doesn't bleed out. With open wounds like this, a tourniquet could make all the difference. Remember that."

Sarah nodded, her wide eyes trailing over Clementine's stump leg.

Clementine tried not to feel self-conscious as Carlos slowly unraveled the bandages, but Sarah's small gasp made her face heat up. She started in surprise when Sarah reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Carlos raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment. "Now, when you go to clean a wound such as this, you have to be delicate," He said, dabbing at Clementine's leg. "You can see here where the skin is beginning to heal and close, but if I press too hard on it, it will begin to bleed again."

Clementine hissed as the stinging disinfectant seeped into her wound, her grip on Sarah's hand tightening. Sarah patted her arm comfortingly.

"When do the stitches come out?" She asked, her voice small.

"When the wound is entirely closed up," Carlos replied, beginning to bandage Clementine's leg. "Which, assuming all goes well, should be in about a month and a half at the most."

"Do the stitches bother you?" Sarah looked put off. "Can you… _feel_ them, at all?"

"Not really," Clementine said, tilting her head. "Aside from pain, I mostly just feel… numb."

"When we amputated the leg, we severed through many nerves," Carlos explained, packing everything away. "In an operating room, the procedure would've been done with little to no lasting nerve damage, but I'm afraid in this circumstance the damage is permanent. Even when the leg heals, the nerves will still experience pain every now and then."

"Oh," Sarah swallowed. "That's… bad."

"Yes," Carlos agreed solemnly. "Unfortunately, it's the best I could do, providing the circumstances. I also suspect there are hairline fractures in the bone that need to heal before you can put any weight on the limb. Since you're using a cane, that shouldn't be a problem."

"So, it's not as bad as it could have been," Clementine told Sarah. "It saved my life, after all."

"Yeah, I guess…" Sarah took a deep breath. "I- I can't imagine going through all that…"

"Yes, well, the important thing is that she did," Carlos snapped his medical bag shut. "It was touch-and-go for a while there, but the worst of it is over, and Clementine should make a full recovery."

"Well, as full of a recovery as an amputee can make, anyways." Clementine supplied, quirking an eyebrow.

Carlos pointedly ignored that. "How do you feel, Sarah?" He asked. "I know it's a lot, but-"

"I'm okay," Sarah assured him. "Clementine's the one who actually had to go through it all… if she can live through that, then… I- I can handle seeing it."

"Alright then," Carlos nodded. "Are you two ready to leave?"

Clementine slipped her arms through the straps of her backpack. She was actually grateful she didn't have much; it'd be a lot easier to carry her meagre possessions than an enormous pack, especially since she was missing a leg now. While part of her was terrified of leaving the safety of the cabin, the warm familiarity and the security, she knew they couldn't stay. They'd just have to take their chances and hope they didn't run into Carver on the way out. Hope that they would find Nick, or maybe even Christa, and get away without anyone getting hurt.

"As ready as I'll ever be…"

~

"Bec, we need to talk."

His wife's hands stilled, tightening her grip on the shirt she was folding. Rebecca paused for a moment before tucking the shirt in their backpack, her back to Alvin so he couldn't see her face.

"About what?" Rebecca asked, her voice impossibly fragile.

"Carver," Alvin grit the name out, crossing his arms. "Ever since he showed up again, you've been… you've been actin' strange. And I get it, okay? That sicko put us through some shit, but you know I won't let him hurt you, right?"

"He already hurt me…" Rebecca muttered.

"What?"

"Alvin, I need to tell you something," Rebecca turned around, something urgent in her eyes. "And… I need you to promise you… won't get upset, or… think less of me."

"… what's going on, Bec?" Alvin took a step towards Rebecca, but froze when she tensed up. "You… you know I'd never hurt you… right?" His voice was scarcely above a whisper.

Rebecca bit her lip. "The baby… I think it might be Carver's."

There was a horrible silence. Rebecca watched him anxiously, her eyes searching. Alvin felt like the rug had been pulled out from under him.

_"What?_ What do you mean, what happened?" His voice shook. "What happened, _exactly?"_

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Rebecca rushed to explain. "It was a few days after Tony died. Carver approached me, told me he could make the same thing happen to you if I didn't cooperate. I- I didn't know what to do, I knew he was interested in me, but I hadn't thought much about it before, and then next thing I knew- I'm _sorry,"_ Her voice broke, and she took a shuddering gasp. "I never meant t-to, I would never betray you, Alvin, I swear, I didn't mean-"

"Wha- why are you apologizing?" Alvin blinked, his mind struggling to get a foothold. "You- Bec, it wasn't your fault, I- I should'a been there for you, to protect you- I'm so _sorry."_

"I… what? It- it wasn't- it was _my_ fault, Alvin," It was Rebecca's turn to be confused. "I didn't fight him, he-"

"Did you want it, though?" Alvin asked carefully, fighting to keep his hands from shaking.

"What?" Rebecca stared at him. "No, god no, I didn't- I would _never-"_

"Then it wasn't your fault," Alvin said firmly. "That was rape."

Rebecca flinched. "N-no, it wasn't, it's not the same, I agreed to it-"

"Only to save my life. That's blackmail," Alvin insisted, rage churning in his gut. "That fucker forced you into it, it wasn't your fault!"

Rebecca looked taken aback, like the thought hadn't occurred to her. Alvin's heart clenched painfully. Not only had she been through something traumatic, but she'd kept it to herself, all the while thinking it was her fault.

"No, that- that's not right," Rebecca knit her brows together. "All this time I thought… no. No, no, no, that can't be…" Her eyes widened, and she choked back a sob, tears streaming down her face.

Alvin crossed the distance between them and sat down on the bed, pulling her into his arms. Rebecca buried her face in his shoulder, muffling her cries in his shirt. Alvin pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his eyes stinging.

"Why didn't you come to me with this sooner?" He asked gently.

"What difference would it have made?" Rebecca said miserably.

"Then why come to me now?"

"I… I couldn't keep lying to you," She confessed. "Part of me thought… I thought that maybe… maybe the baby wouldn't make it, and then there's no problem…" Rebecca sniffed. "But now… it's almost here, and… I just needed you to know."

"God… Becca, I'm sorry I made you feel like you couldn't tell me." Alvin murmured.

"No, it wasn't anything you did, please don't think that," Rebecca shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. "I've been pushing you away these past few months, and you were always too kind to bring it up. But you always made an effort, and I appreciate that… even if it made everything harder. I'm sorry."

"It's okay…" Alvin soothed her. "We're gonna get through this, okay?"

"Okay…" Rebecca sat back, wiping the tears from her face. "You… you won't tell the others, right?"

"That's up to you," Alvin told her. "I won't say anything, but… you know they wouldn't-"

There was a knock at the door.

"Hey, Alvin, Rebecca? You, uh, you about ready to go?"

"Yeah, Luke, we'll be right down," Alvin answered for both of them. "Just give us a sec."

"Sure thing."

Luke's footsteps faded away. They were silent for a moment.

"No matter what happened before," Alvin began quietly. "That baby's ours, alright? Not Carver's. This is our family, and he has no place in it. What he did to you… that's on him, got it? Not you. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you _never_ have to see that shithead's face again."

Rebecca leaned in, brushing a feather-light kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Silly Bear," She said softly. "So, _so_ much."

"Love you too," Alvin murmured. "No matter what."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Language, guns, disturbing imagery, and mentions of death, violence, and amputation.

Clementine waited at the front of the cabin, leaning against the aging wood.

Her stomach was turning anxiously, her heart fluttering with a mixture of excitement and terror at the thought of going back into the forest. The past week had been difficult; she didn't like staying in one place, much less doing nothing all day, but the cabin was safe. The forest wasn't.

But it was unavoidable; Carver had forced their hand. But she was trying to stay positive. Maybe some good would come from this. Maybe they would find Christa. She had to stay hopeful… even though it got harder with each passing day.

Hearing footsteps, Clementine was brought out of her musings, looking up to see Luke round the corner.

Luke nodded in greeting before he held out a familiar hammer, the tarnished metal stained with dark blood. Clementine raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the jolt that went through her stomach with indifference.

"I uh, figured you'd need somethin' to defend yourself with, so…" He shrugged. "I got it for you. Want it?"

"I'd be more useful with a gun." Clementine said coolly, leaning slightly on her cane.

"I don't doubt it," Luke said quellingly. "But we're kinda short on ammo as it is, so, you know…" He scratched the back of his head, glancing away.

Clementine frowned. It was a legitimate excuse, but she couldn't help but think that wasn't the real reason they weren't allowing her to have a gun. They didn't trust her completely yet. She'd have to fix that; she wouldn't feel safe unless she had a gun in her hand.

And if she was being honest with herself, she didn't want the hammer because it reminded her of the night in the shed; the night she lost her leg. But a weapon was a weapon. She'd just have to get over it.

Clementine took the hammer, giving Luke a thin smile. She slipped it into the belt loop of her jeans on her right side, to help compensate for the loss of her leg and even out her weight. It was going to be a lot harder to stay balanced while fighting now. She tried not to think about it.

"Is everyone ready?" Carlos approached the pair, Sarah at his side. Alvin and Rebecca trailed behind them. They both had red, puffy eyes, but they were showing more affection towards each other than Clementine had seen before; standing very close together, with Alvin's arm slung around Rebecca's shoulders. Whatever had them upset wasn't between them; if Clementine had to guess, she'd say Pete's death was taking its toll on them.

"Yeah, we're set here," Luke replied. "How do you wanna do this?"

"Maybe we should go to the river and start there?" Clementine suggested. "We might find some clue as to where Nick went."

"No, we shouldn't go there," Carlos said quickly, glancing at Sarah. "It might not be safe, and it's out of our way." He gave Clementine a look, and realization dawned on her; he didn't want Sarah seeing the carnage at the river.

"Well, how else are we gonna find him?" Luke broke in.

"We may not," Carlos began haltingly. "It's already been so long, and-"

"Don't give me that shit, Carlos," Luke warned him. "I'm gonna find him, okay, whether you help me or not."

"Yeah, cause splitting up is a great idea," Rebecca put in bitterly. "Look what happened last time."

"It might not come to that," Alvin said quellingly. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay? We haven't even set out yet, let's just see what happens."

"Yeah," Clementine agreed. "We shouldn't fight."

"Okay, okay, you're right," Luke closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, calming himself. "Let's just get moving."

Luke took the lead, heading off into the forest, and they all began to walk. Carlos bent over slightly to speak to Sarah, who was looking a little overwhelmed. Clementine moved a little closer to hear better.

"It's going to be okay, honey," He said quietly. "Just think of it like a road trip. We get to go to somewhere new, somewhere better."

"Okay." Sarah's reply was faint. She slipped her hand into Carlos' larger one.

A stab of pain gripped Clementine's heart without warning. She stumbled but quickly recovered, well aware that Alvin and Rebecca, who were bringing up the rear, were watching her. She took a deep breath through her nose, blinking away the tears that had formed in her eyes, and swallowed, her throat tight.

That's what she hated most about grief. It struck unexpectedly and was wholly overwhelming; she couldn't prepare for it. Clementine liked being prepared, but she had no control over her emotions. The hole in her heart ached so badly it felt almost like a physical pain, like claws had taken hold and _squeezed._

Seeing Sarah with her father… it was too familiar, too much like herself and Lee. He had helped her through all this, but now he was gone. It was all her fault; that made it worse. Lee wasn't here for her anymore, but he should've been. Could've been, if it wasn't for her.

Clementine took another breath. _In, out._ Steady. Keep moving.

The moment passed. It always did.

~

Half an hour later, Clementine wasn't doing so well.

Before, she hadn't considered whether or not she'd be able to handle such a taxing journey. That hadn't mattered; all that mattered was getting away from Carver, getting safe. But now she was having second thoughts. She had built up some strength during the week following the amputation, but she was in no way prepared for such a difficult trip.

It took a lot of effort to just take a single step. After hundreds of steps, her leg was cramping, her lungs were burning, and her ribcage ached. She was already exhausted, and they had only just set off.

Her eyes burned with tears. _Pathetic._ How could she ever think she could do this? That she could be strong, like before? She'd known it was going to be hard, but she hadn't realized how useless she would feel…

Clementine was working hard to stay in front of Alvin and Rebecca. If she lagged behind, they'd know just how weak she was. Then she'd be a liability, someone who couldn't pull her own weight. She knew what happened to people like that in this world… the group hadn't even wanted to save her in the first place, this would be all the proof they needed to see it was all just a massive waste.

She heard footsteps behind her getting closer and bristled. The words were already on her tongue, _'I'm fine, I don't need help',_ and she had just opened her mouth when-

"Hey, Clementine… I wanted to apologize for the way I acted."

Rebecca. That was unexpected.

"I… gave you some shit before," The woman continued. "And I'm sorry. I'm a little on edge nowadays, but I shouldn't have treated you the way I did."

Clementine was surprised. While it was obvious Rebecca's hatred for her had fizzled out, she hadn't expected the woman to care enough to try and make amends.

"It's okay." Clementine replied tersely, her eyes still on the road ahead. She knew she was being short with Rebecca, but she has mixed feelings. She wanted the group to trust her, and to a lesser extent, like her, but some treacherous part of her couldn't help but wonder if Rebecca would've been so quick to forgive had Clementine not lost her leg.

_'She just feels sorry for you,' Her mind whispered. 'They all do. They'll never see you as anything other than a weakling, someone who needs to be protected and pitied.'_

That had been one of her biggest fears, Clementine realized. Being treated differently because of her disability. When Rebecca had been so cold to her, after the amputation, a small part of her had been thankful. Sure, it was annoying and unpleasant, but she had thought it was a sign that things wouldn't have to change too much.

People would still be mean. Life would go on.

But now? Rebecca was apologizing, and she really didn't seem like the type. Clementine already had a hard time being taken seriously because of her age, but now it seemed like she'd never be treated like a normal person.

"I can handle it. I'm not a little kid."

"I felt the same way when I was your age," Rebecca chuckled lightly. "My dad was always givin' me shit, and I always thought he didn't know a damn thing… so how are you holdin' up?" Her voice grew softer. "If you need to take a break I'm sure Luke-"

"I'm fine." Clementine grit out, pointedly avoiding Rebecca's eyes. She didn't want to admit how hard all this was for her, because then Rebecca would know that she had been right to think of her as a liability. Nothing but dead weight.

Rebecca made a noncommittal noise, but didn't say anything else. Clementine could feel the woman's gaze on her; studying her, looking for any signs of weakness. She tried to even out her breathing, and muster enough energy to push through the pain and exhaustion, but it was obvious she was struggling.

"Hey, Luke," Rebecca called. "We need to stop."

A jolt of panic gripped Clementine.

"What for?" Luke glanced over his shoulder, his brows furrowed. "Somethin' wrong?"

Clementine was about to protest, but Rebecca spoke first.

"My back is killin' me," The woman said. "And my feet are swelling. Can we just take a minute?"

Luke considered it. "Okay, fine," He amended. "Take five, everyone. I'm gonna scout ahead."

As Luke continued down the forest trail, the rest of the group settled down. Rebecca gave Clementine a small smile before making her way over to a rock and sitting down.

Clementine chewed her lip, confused. Why would Rebecca willingly show weakness? And for her sake, no less? It didn't make sense.

She hesitated for a moment before approaching Rebecca, almost sheepishly. Carefully, Clementine lowered herself to the ground, relief flooding through her exhausted limbs. Clearing her throat, she looked up at Rebecca, anxiety swimming in her golden eyes.

"Uh, thank you," Clementine said, her voice small. "For covering for me."

Rebecca shrugged. "Don't mention it. If I'm bein' honest, I could use a rest myself. And there's nothin' wrong with asking for help." She said seriously.

Clementine glanced away, her throat tight. It was easy for Rebecca to say that; her place in the group was secure. Clementine would have to earn her place, and their trust, before she would fully belong.

"You know, none of us would make it on our own," Rebecca said carefully. "Sometimes it's hard knowin' just how dependent I am on everyone. I'm not used to that. I'm not comfortable with that."

"I know what you mean." Clementine muttered.

Once upon a time, she prided herself on her independence. Most people she met saw her as someone to protect and care for. Even Christa was guilty of that sometimes.

Clementine had worked hard to learn how to look after herself; to become strong and capable. She might be small, but she was fast, and smart, too. She could fight. She could kill walkers. She'd shot her kidnapper at the Marsh House. She'd shot Lee. She got out of Savannah alone. She could take care of herself.

But she'd lost all that when she lost her leg. It was like she was eight years old again; helpless and scared to death in a terrifying new world.

"Yeah, I guess you do," Rebecca murmured, studying her sadly. "But… just so you know… we're not like other groups. We're not gonna turn on you because you have some trouble now and then, okay? It's not your fault that this happened. We're not gonna hold it against you. We- we're not like that," She sighed, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry I ever made you feel that way."

Clementine snorted. Sure, they didn't mind her disability now. Back at the cabin, they were safe, and had plenty of food, and a roof over their heads. But when things got harder, they'd have to help her more and more, and she wouldn't be able to give them anything in return. They'd have to constantly look after her, and sooner or later, she knew they'd get sick of it. Sick of her. And then they'd leave her. She'd be all alone, and as good as dead.

She had to find Christa before that happened. Christa would accept her. Christa would keep her safe. Clementine just had to hang on until they found each other again.

Rebecca noticed her reaction and frowned. "Honest, Clementine, we're not gonna hurt you, or abandon you or anything like that." She insisted, her eyebrows creasing.

Clementine looked up at her warily. "No one ever thinks they'll turn on each other, but they always do." She said quietly, glancing away.

"Clementine-"

"It's okay, just forget about it. I... appreciate everything you guys have done for me." She turned away from Rebecca slightly, signaling that she was done talking about the subject.

Rebecca sighed. "Alright, that's fine…" She murmured, more to herself than Clementine. "I'm supposed to be a mom soon. Guess I need to work on my patience…" She rested a hand on her stomach. "Alvin and I still don't know what to call her," Rebecca changed the subject. "Or him, if that man gets his wish, god help me. Any ideas?"

Clementine tensed, her heart twisting painfully.

_'Genevieve.'_

She shook her head, trying to chase away the bad memories.

_'The screaming dissolved into sobs, and then faded into horrible, horrible silence. The room was heavy with the smell of blood-'_

Clementine blinked. It had been a while since she thought about that night. They didn't talk about it.

She didn't like thinking about it. She didn't want to talk about it, either. Rebecca was looking at her with concern; get a hold of yourself, Clementine. She forced herself to relax, banishing the painful memories to the back of her mind and putting up a wall.

"Um, I don't know," Clementine said, fighting to keep her tone normal. "How about-"

"Hey, Luke's back." Sarah's voice carried over the small clearing, and Clementine turned to look, grateful for the distraction.

"Any news?" Alvin asked, standing and dusting himself off.

"Nah, we're clear for now," Luke replied. "Let's get moving."

Clementine immediately busied herself with her cane, avoiding Rebecca's eyes. She shifted her weight back onto her foot so she could push herself up, digging her walking stick into the soft earth for leverage.

"Here." Rebecca offered her hand.

Clementine ignored it, pulling herself up unaided. "I got it, thanks." The muscles in her leg were crying out, trembling from the exertion, but she took a steadying breath and pressed forward, leaving Rebecca behind.

~

When they set out again, Clementine walked next to Sarah.

It wasn't just that she was trying to avoid Rebecca; she genuinely enjoyed the other girl's company. But it wasn't solely for her own benefit; Sarah seemed preoccupied, and if Clementine could help put her at ease, she'd consider that time well spent. And, it was a nice distraction from the pain she was in.

Carlos had dropped back a few steps, to give them the illusion of privacy. Clementine still wasn't sure how he felt about her spending time with his daughter. They had made some progress; he hadn't even objected, so that had to count for something. His hesitancy concerning their budding friendship probably had to do with Clementine's opinion of his parenting style. Carlos knew she didn't agree with his methods, so he was probably worried she'd do something to change that.

Needless to say, if he ever found out she taught Sarah how to shoot, she was in real trouble.

But for now, Clementine tried to enjoy the relative peace. The forest really was beautiful, and it felt a lot safer when she was with other people. She glanced over at Sarah, who almost looked… troubled, her brows knit together.

"Hey, Sarah, want to play I Spy?" She asked.

That successfully roused Sarah from her thoughts. "Haha, what?" Sarah scrunched her nose. "Everything would be green and brown, that's too easy!"

"What, are you scared you'll lose?" Clementine grinned.

"Nuh uh! I spy, with my little eye, something…" Sarah glanced around, biting her lip. "Blue!"

Clementine looked up. "The sky?"

"Aw…"

They carried on like that for a few minutes. It was nice to forget her troubles with a mindless game, and pretend she couldn't hear Rebecca and Alvin talking in hushed tones, or feel Carlos' wary eye on her. She knew she had to make more of an effort if she wanted to gain everyone's trust, but it was hard to open up. And after what happened to Pete, she was hesitant to get attached again.

_'Then again,'_ Clementine thought with a fond smile, watching Sarah's face light up when she guessed correctly. _'Maybe it's too late.'_

It was her turn to guess now. "Okay, something orange… is it-"

"Stop." Luke paused, holding up a hand.

Clementine froze immediately, her smile dropping. She held her breath, every muscle in her body tense, and watched Luke, who seemed to be listening intently for something.

"Hear that?" He breathed.

Clementine tilted her head, frowning when she heard the distant growls. "Walkers." She said grimly. Sarah grabbed her arm, her eyes wide. Clementine gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Alright, everyone," Luke said, his voice low. "They sound like they're a ways into the woods there," He nodded at the trees. "We're gonna make an arc around them, _slowly,_ alright, and there shouldn't be a problem. Just keep quiet."

Carlos stepped closer to them, draping his arm around Sarah in a protective gesture. The group subconsciously shifted closer together as they began to move quietly through the forest as a single unit, hardly daring to breathe. Clementine's heart pounded in her ears, her body taut like a rubber band. She took extra care not to trip over anything, scanning the ground before placing her cane down.

The end of her walking stick struck something solid, hidden in the underbrush. She brushed away the tall grass, expecting a rock, and bit back a gasp.

There was a rifle nestled in dead leaves; she remembered looking down the smoking barrel of the very same gun, the shot still ringing in her ears.

"Luke!" Clementine hissed.

Luke whirled around, reaching for his machete, before he followed her line of vision. His eyes widened. "Holy shit," He whispered. "Nick's rifle!"

"The hell's it doin' here?" Alvin wondered aloud, casting a wary glance around them.

"There's no sign of him here, he must have dropped it," Carlos observed, kneeling down to pick up the rifle. "Maybe he's nearby?"

Clementine locked eyes with Luke, and knew they were thinking the same thing.

"The walkers…" She murmured, dread making her blood cold. Luke bit his lip, glancing in the direction the sounds were coming from, and nodded.

"Nick."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Canon-typical violence, minor gore, and strong language.

Clementine peered through the tree line, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.

The walkers were gathered around a small, dilapidated shack built into the side of a hill. The cinderblock walls looked old and faded, and the flat tin roof was coated with rust. Moss had started growing up the sides of the walls, twining through cracks in the stone.

There were only three walkers Clementine could see. One of them was wandering around the clearing in haphazard circles, though it never strayed too far from the cellar. Another one was standing idly by the doors, occasionally shifting its weight from foot to foot and growling lowly, its skeletal hands clenching and unclenching at its sides. The last walker was on the ground, slumped against the stone walls. It was an old one, so rotten and decayed it didn't even resemble a human anymore. Clementine could see where muscle and tendons had withered away around its kneecaps; she doubted it would be getting up again.

"Alright, I'm gonna take 'em out," Luke murmured, quietly sliding his machete from its sheath. "You all hang back, okay? Alvin, step in if things get hairy."

"Gotcha." The large man replied.

"Be careful," Carlos offered. Glancing around, the doctor added, "And hurry up. We can't take too long with this."

"Noted." There was a hint of annoyance in Luke's voice, and tension in his body language.

Clementine couldn't help but think Carlos was being a bit insensitive. She knew he was worried about Carver finding them, but ever since Nick disappeared, the doctor had been quick to write him off, and acted like rescuing him would be a waste of time. She wondered how Carlos would be acting if it was Sarah who was missing.

She was reminded of Kenny, whose cut and dry survivalism always took precedence except when it concerned his own family. When Larry suffered a heart attack in that horrible meat locker, Kenny hadn't even checked for a pulse before killing him. But when Duck was bitten, it was a whole different story.

She tried not to judge too harshly. It was all too easy to stay removed and unaffected until family was involved. Maybe she was lucky she didn't have any of hers left…

Silently, Luke carefully picked his way through the trees and ducked into the clearing.

Sarah covered her ears, turning to hide her face in her father's jacket. "Tell me when it's over." She whimpered. Carlos patted her shoulder comfortingly.

Turning her gaze back to the clearing, Clementine watched as Luke crept up behind the first walker.

It was turning to face him when his machete slid cleanly through its skull. The corpse dropped to the ground with a soft thud, its dark blood staining the grass. Not missing a beat, Luke stepped forward and drove his weapon into the back of the second walker's head with one swift, fluid movement. He pulled the machete free easily, and sidestepped as the body collapsed in a heap.

The last walker snarled, reaching up for Luke, but as Clementine predicted, it couldn't stand up. Luke disposed of it as quickly as the first two, flecks of discolored blood staining the walls.

Clementine dug her nails into her cane, envy stabbing through her like a knife. He made it look so easy… she couldn't imagine taking on three walkers by herself, even with one incapacitated. It was yet another reminder of how vulnerable she was now.

Clementine joined Luke as he pressed his ear against the wooden doors, listening intently. She leaned on her walking stick, her heart starting to race again. "Can you hear anything?"

"No," Luke muttered, pressing against the doors. "They won't open; we need to find a way in." Though his voice was calm, Luke's expression betrayed his anxiety.

Clementine studied the door handles. "Well, there's no lock, so something must be blocking them," She glanced down at the hinges. "It almost looks like the doors would swing both ways. Do you think we could pull it open?"

Luke tugged on the door handles. "No good. Must'a wedged something in there."

Clementine took a step back to scan over the cellar again. The only other point of access she could see was a small window near the crest of the hill. She bit her lip. "I think I found a way in…."

Luke followed her gaze, his eyes widening. "You really think you can fit in there?"

Clementine shrugged. "Maybe. Worth a shot, right?"

"Absolutely not."

Clementine started at the unexpected voice, and turned to see Carlos. The rest of the group had caught up to them. Alvin and Rebecca regarded the cellar warily. Sarah was practically glued to Carlos' side, staring at her feet. The doctor's arms were crossed, his lips pursed and his brows drawn together.

"I can handle it," Clementine said testily. "I've done stuff like this before."

So many times, she'd lost count. Every now and then, there was an occasion where her small size actually came in handy. Back when she was younger, more foolish but a little less fearful, she'd always jumped at an opportunity to prove herself, fueled by her desire to contribute to the group. To be helpful. Useful.

Maybe that was what she was doing now. Trying to prove she still had worth.

"We don't know what's in there," Carlos replied firmly. "It's too dangerous."

"You're not the boss of me." Clementine shot back.

"Luke," Carlos turned to the young man. "You can't be serious. She's a child."

Running a hand through his hair, Luke hesitated, chewing his lip. "I think… look, if she wants to do it, let her, okay? It's her choice." He glanced over at Clementine, his eyes silently pleading.

Clementine nodded determinedly. This was her chance; if the circumstances were different, she was almost positive Luke wouldn't let her do something dangerous like this; he was too protective. But his concern for Nick outweighed his better judgement, and she wasn't going to waste this opportunity.

"Unbelievable." Carlos muttered, looking away.

"Oh, lay off. She'll be fine," Rebecca spoke up, offering Clementine an encouraging smile. "Like she said, she can handle it."

"You're going to go in there?" Sarah looked up, stricken. "Alone? That's- that's just… you could get hurt!" She glanced away again, as if startled by her own outburst, and bit her lip.

"I'll be okay," Clementine took a step towards the other girl and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I have to see if Nick's in there, and see if he's alright. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay…" Sarah hesitantly met her eyes. "Just be careful."

"Don't worry." Clementine let her arm drop and looked expectantly at Luke.

"Okay, let's go," With a wave of his arm, Luke led the way up the small hill, towards the window. "Listen, Clementine, I just need you to get those doors open, alright? Don't worry about anything else."

Nodding, Clementine lowered herself to the ground. She squinted at the window, but the glass was dusty, and the inside was too dimly lit to make much of anything.

Luke slipped his fingers under the windowsill and pulled. The window creaked slightly, but opened easily enough. Clementine took a deep breath and slid her cane through, flinching as it clacked on the hard floor below. She listened carefully for any other movement, but the cellar was silent. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Well, here goes…" Clementine turned onto her stomach and slid through the opening, leg first, and carefully lowered herself down, her fingers gripping the window ledge. She dropped to the ground in a crouch, steadying herself before feeling around for her walking stick.

For a few brief seconds, she couldn't find it, and her breath caught in her throat. But her fingers finally brushed against the familiar wood, and she snatched the cane up with a sigh of relief. Clementine straightened up, wrinkling her nose as the foul-smelling air hit her senses. The cellar was filled with the sour, heavy scent of alcohol.

Luke's voice came a few feet above her. "See anything?" He whispered.

Clementine blinked, trying to adjust to the lack of light. "Uh, not really…" She took a deep breath and raised her voice slightly. "Nick? Are you in here?"

"Clementine, get the doors." Luke hissed. She could hear his footsteps fading as he went around to the front of the cellar, his shadow appearing in the gap underneath the doors.

Clementine had just turned towards the doors, held shut by a large crate, when she saw movement at the edge of her vision.

There was a groan from the corner of the room. Clementine slipped the hammer from her belt loop and inched forward, heart pounding. "Nick..?"

She peeked around some wire racks and wooden boxes, her heart skipping a beat when she saw a figure lying prone on the concrete floor, perfectly still. It was too dark to make out any features; it might be Nick, or a walker, or reanimated Nick-

Suddenly the figure bolted upright, and Clementine jumped. She had just raised her hammer when a shaft of sunlight, peering through the small window, illuminated his face.

It was Nick. He looked horrible. His red, bleary eyes were underlined with dark circles, and his skin was pale and clammy, awash with a sickly hue. His left shirt sleeve was torn clean off, though Clementine couldn't see any sign of a bite or wound.

"God, Nick, you almost gave me a heart attack!" Clementine reprimanded him. "You look like a walker."

Nick chuckled without humor, the sound rattling in his throat. "Feel like one, too." He mumbled, staring at the floor.

"You… were you bitten?" Clementine asked carefully, taking a step back.

"No." Nick almost sounded… disappointed?

"Can you stand? Are you hurt at all?" The floor was covered with little shards of glass that crunched beneath her shoe. What the hell had happened?

Nick gave a noncommittal grunt, making no effort to stand.

Frowning, Clementine turned away from Nick and made her way to the doors. The wooden crate barring them shut came up to her mid-thigh, and with an experimental push she found it was fairly heavy. The doors had also been tied shut with a scrap of fabric… she glanced over at Nick and his missing shirt sleeve.

Smart.

Clementine focused on that first; if she could get the doors untied, Luke could just pull them open, and she wouldn't have to move that heavy crate. After a couple seconds, she found that the knot was a lot more complicated than it originally seemed.

Nick was being eerily quiet, and still hadn't moved. Clementine was starting to get concerned. Running out of patience, she slipped her hammer free and used it to tear the rest of the fabric away. She stumbled when the shirt sleeve came free, but caught her balance and pounded her fist on the doors.

"Okay, Luke," She called. "You can pull them open now."

After a beat, the doors swung open with a creak, flooding the cellar with daylight. Luke stood in the doorway, apprehensive. His gaze fell on Nick, and his eyes widened.

"Jesus…" He breathed.

Nick blinked owlishly at the sudden light, squinting at Luke. "Hey man," He slurred. "You got any aspirin?"

Luke rushed forward, clasping Nick by the forearm and pulling him to his feet. "Nick, you _asshole!"_ He wrapped the other man in a hug. "I thought you were- god, I'm so glad to see you."

They separated, and Nick managed a weak smile. "Yeah, I thought I was a goner," He said, dropping his gaze. "We- it happened so fast…" He took a shuddering breath. "Pete's dead."

"I know, man," Luke said grimly. "We found him at the river."

"He just… he fucking _shot_ him. I was right there, and I couldn't do anything. God," Nick's face crumpled, and Luke reached out and caught him as he tipped forward, his body sagging. _"Fuck."_ His grip on Luke tightened, and he buried his face in the other man's shoulder.

"I know, shh, I know," Luke soothed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, okay, I am."

"I just- _goddammit,"_ Nick's body shook with sobs. "I ca-an't believe h-he's fucking _gone."_

"I know." Luke held him while he cried.

Clementine glanced away, feeling like an intruder. How could she compare the pain she felt to what Nick was going through? She'd only known Pete for one short week; Luke and Nick had a lifetime to mourn. It was yet another reminder that she was an outsider.

Eventually, Nick's cries died down until he pulled away from Luke, sniffling. "How did you guys find me?" He managed, brushing the tear tracts from his face.

"Clementine found your rifle," Luke replied, giving her a proud look over his shoulder. "Damn lucky, too, we were on our way out. I wouldn't have left you, though." He added, resting a hand on Nick's shoulder.

"Yeah, I know," Nick murmured quietly, the corners of his mouth twitching. "You're too damn stupid."

Luke laughed, but it sounded hoarse. Clementine realized with a start that he was on the brink of tears himself. "You're the one who got yourself locked in a damn cellar." He pointed out, swiping at his eyes with the back of his hand.

Nick shrugged. "I didn't really have any other options," He glanced over at Clementine. "Thanks, kid. I owe you one."

"Don't mention it." Clementine said, giving him a small smile.

"C'mon, let's go join the others," Luke steered Nick towards the exit, his arm slung around the other's shoulders. "They're all worried sick."

"Yeah, I bet Carlos is just beside himself," Nick joked, bitterness hidden in his tone. There was a haze to his eyes, like he wasn't all there. "Might be better off without me."

"Nick," Luke's voice was serious. "You know Carlos would be devastated if something happened to you. We all would."

Nick snorted, but didn't reply. Luke set his jaw, but didn't press the issue. Clementine followed the pair outside the cellar, concerned. She hadn't realized Nick thought so lowly of himself, or doubted his place in the group so much. Surely he knew they cared about him?

"Nick!" Sarah's voice greeted them, relief evident in her tone. She ran up to meet them, wrapping her arms around Nick.

"Hey, kiddo." Nick managed a smile, returning the hug.

"Glad to see you." Alvin said warmly.

"Had us goin' for a while." Rebecca agreed.

"Welcome back," Carlos' smile was thin, but his voice was sincere. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm not bitten, or shot or anything." Nick replied sullenly.

"Well. Let's get moving, then." Carlos turned briskly, leading the group back into the forest. Sarah gave them a smile before returning to her father's side, jogging to catch up. Alvin and Rebecca followed, with Nick trailing behind.

Clementine started after them when Luke caught her by the arm.

"Hey, Clementine? Can I talk to you?"

Clementine sighed. "Look, I know I should've opened the doors straight away, but-"

"No, that's not- well, yes, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about," Luke said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, it's time I told you. That man who came to the cabin? That was Carver. We're on the run from him."

Clementine schooled her features into what she hoped was a curious expression as Luke went on. They fell into step as Luke talked, following the group at a distance. He told her about Carver's encampment, and the events leading up to their falling out, more or less repeating what Sarah had already told her.

"So, yeah. Sorry for all the secrecy before, but we figured the less you knew, the less danger you'd be in," Luke rubbed the back of his neck. "But since you're with us now, I figured you should know."

Clementine nodded. "That… makes sense."

Luke studied her. "You… you don't seem too surprised."

"Well…" Clementine's mind scrambled for an explanation. She didn't want to get Sarah into trouble for telling her about Carver. "I kinda… figured it out on my own, you know? After he showed up at the cabin, I put two and two together and…" She shrugged. "From the way you all reacted, it wasn't hard to guess that you have bad history with him. I didn't want to press."

Luke nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I should've realized. You're pretty observant."

Clementine smiled thinly. "So… is Nick going to be okay?"

"Hell, I dunno," His gaze rested on Nick, who was staring at the ground as they walked. "It'll be hard on him, that's for sure. It… hasn't been long since we lost his mom, so…" Luke sighed. "I don't know. He'll get through it, like we always do, I guess."

They were silent for a moment. Clementine chewed her lip, tossing a question around in her mind. "…why did he get drunk?" She ventured finally.

"He wasn't thinkin'," Luke replied simply. "He knows better, he really does, but… sometimes he can be… he doesn't always make the best choices," He amended. "He'd just suffered a major loss. People get sad, and do things they wouldn't normally do. That's all."

Doubt curled inside Clementine's stomach. "I… don't think that was it. They way Nick was talking… it almost seemed like… like he…" Her voice dropped. "Like he wanted to die."

"Hey, c'mon Clementine, don't talk like that," Luke's voice was pleading. "Look, he's just an idiot sometimes, he wouldn't- I mean, he's not… he's not the kind of person who would do something like that."

Clementine pursed her lips, uncertain. "You can't always tell," She said. "Sometimes it's the person you least expect."

Luke's eyes widened with realization, sympathy settling on his features. "Sounds like you have first-hand experience." He observed carefully, the unspoken question lingering in the air.

Clementine shrugged, avoiding his eyes. "Sometimes you learn things the hard way."

Out of everyone she knew, Katjaa was the least likely to take her own life. She'd always been so full of hope, reminding them why they had to keep living. But in the end, it was too much. And if it could happen to Katjaa, then it could happen to anyone.

Luke knit his brows together. "Maybe so, but I know Nick. He wouldn't leave me- leave us." He said quickly, glancing away.

"Okay, sorry…" Clementine let the subject drop. It was a hard thing to accept, but if you didn't prepare for the worst, you'd end up blindsided.

Luke caught her tone and sighed. "Sorry, I- I'm just worried about him, alright," He rubbed the back of his neck. "And… I know I'm not exactly in the position to ask this, but could you keep an eye on him for me? Nick doesn't always tell me everything."

Clementine raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I know how it sounds," Luke sighed again. "Some group, huh? You… you sure you still wanna come with us?"

Taken aback, Clementine paused, not sure how to respond.

"Look, I know we got off to a rough start," Luke winced. "And I can't make any promises it won't get rougher, but we all know you now."

Clementine found herself smiling dryly. They didn't know her, not _really._

"And… we may not be perfect," Luke continued. "But we look after each other."

There really wasn't any other option; in her condition, she would never make it on her own, or live long enough to find Christa. But it wasn't a question whether she was going to stay with them; it was whether she _wanted_ to. If she had the choice, would she leave them without a second thought? A week ago, that might have been the case. But now?

Now she wasn't sure. Yes, they had their issues, but every group did. And looking around, she had to admit that although it wasn't ideal, it wasn't too bad either.

"Yeah, I'm with you guys." Clementine said, and she truly meant it.

"And we are glad to have you." Luke responded warmly.

Clementine frowned. "I'm not sure _everyone_ is…" She confessed, her gaze resting on Carlos. Though the doctor tolerated her, she didn't think he was particularly happy about her presence.

"Well, they'll get there," Luke promised, giving her a reassuring smile. He unzipped one of the pockets of his backpack and tugged out a map, unfolding it. It was a map of the state, marked with highways and railroad tracks. He traced a line up to a small cluster of mountains, brows furrowed thoughtfully. "Alright, everyone," Luke raised his voice and addressed the group. "I figure we got about four or five days to reach those mountains. Now, if they're trackin' us, we should be able to lose 'em there."

"Five days?" Rebecca exclaimed, her pitch increasing with worry.

"It's gonna be okay, Bec," Alvin reassured her. "We'll make it."

"We have to keep moving now," Carlos agreed. "It's our only choice."

Apprehension gripped Clementine, making her heartrate quicken. It was a long and difficult journey to take, especially on a time crunch. They wouldn't be able to stop often, not with Carver after them. What if she couldn't keep up? She'd put the whole group in danger. Once they realized she wasn't worth the trouble, they'd cut her loose.

And there was nothing she could do about it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Language, mentions of death, cannibalism, and gore, and general angst.

They walked until nightfall.

Despite the ground they'd covered, Clementine could tell Luke was still anxious, reluctant to stop for the night, but it couldn't be helped. It was pitch black, and all too easy to wander off course. They couldn't afford to get lost, and truthfully they could all use the rest. Clementine herself was nursing several blisters and a leg cramp. She'd known walking was going to be harder, but it didn't make it any less painful.

Their biggest problem was the cold. They couldn't light a fire, not with Carver out there. Fortunately, they happened upon a steep outcrop of rocks to take shelter by, blocking out most of the wind. The air still had a biting chill to it, but it was bearable.

Clementine sank to the ground, her muscles aching, and began to work the cramp out of her leg. She was proud of how well she'd kept up, but reminded herself they still had a lot of ground to cover. The next five days were going to be crucial; if she could get through this, she could get through anything. But if she couldn't keep up... she dreaded the possibility.

She wished she could just skip the healing process, and fast-forward to when she was better adjusted. It was hard being patient; she knew the strength and endurance would come with time, but with Carver bearing down on them it was easy to get frustrated. And there was always the underlying fear that the others would decide she was too much of a risk... a _liability,_ and cut her loose.

Clementine was roused by her musings by Luke, who practically collapsed next to her with a tired smile. She hadn't failed to noticed how Luke seemed to push himself the hardest. He'd lead the group all day, keeping them on track, taking out any stray walkers they happened upon, and generally kept the group's spirits up. He never let on that he was tired, though Clementine knew he must be. Luke led by example, and his strength gave strength to others. But that strength had its limit, and it was starting to show.

"Hey there, Clem," Luke greeted her, pushing a hand through his hair. "How you doin'?"

"As good as I can be, I guess," Clementine shrugged. "You know, given the circumstances."

"Good, good, that's good..." Luke's gaze wandered over to Nick, who was a little ways off, staring up at the dark sky with a far off look in his eyes. "How do you think Nick's been doin'?" He asked quietly, eyes shining with concern.

Clementine knit her brows together. "I don't know. He's been really quiet... I think he blames himself. For what happened to Pete."

"Well, no surprise there. What happened at the river was fucked up," Luke said bitterly, shaking his head. "Watching someone die like that, it does somethin' to you."

Clementine bit her lip. "We're... all going to see bad things, but... it's okay," She glanced up at Luke. "Right?"

"Yeah." Luke regarded her sadly, a pained, knowing look in his eyes. She'd gotten that from him a lot, and it put her slightly on edge. It was almost like he knew something she didn't. She didn't like that.

"There's that look again." Clementine said accusingly, folding her arms.

"What look?" Luke asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Like you know something," Clementine narrowed her eyes. "Something about me."

Luke's eyes widened, and he chewed his lip, looking torn. "I- I don't... alright, Clem," He sighed, relenting. "Look, I'm gonna be straight with you, okay? You remember back at the cabin, after the accident, when Carlos gave you those pain meds?"

"Yeah..?" Clementine eyed him warily.

"Well, they gave you nightmares." Luke said carefully.

Clementine's heart began to pound. "I don't remember anything about-"

"I don't expect you would, you were pretty out of it," Luke explained, spreading his hands. "Okay, you were confused when you woke up, and... you started talking about someone you knew once. About what happened to him."

"What did I say?" Already her mind was racing with the possibilities- none of them good.

Luke studied her apprehensively, like he could tell she wouldn't like what he told her. "It was a guy named Mark," He said finally. "You- you told us what happened to him," Suddenly his expression was almost pleading. "Did that really happen? Did you- was he really killed by... _cannibals?"_

Clementine inhaled sharply, squeezing her eyes shut as her mind flooded with memories. "You- you weren't supposed to know that," She said stiffly. "No one was."

Luke's eyes grew even wider. "Wh- but why? Clem, you know you can tell us anything, okay-"

"It's none of your business!" Clementine snapped. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears, and she turned away, swallowing the lump in her throat. "My past is my own, it belongs to _me_ \- I don't owe you guys that."

"Clem-"

She cut him off. "Who else knows about it?"

"Nick. And Pete was there, too," Luke's voice dropped. "Hell, Clem, I was going to tell you, but there didn't seem t'be a good time... I'm sorry."

Clementine didn't respond. It wasn't supposed to work like this. Nowadays, all a person really owned was their story. And you didn't go sharing it with strangers; that came with trust. She had only known these people a week; she wasn't even sure if she was going to stay with them or not. (What would Christa think of them, when Clementine found her?) And now it all made sense; Nick had done a complete one-eighty compared to their first encounter, and now she knew why.

She _hated_ being pitied. Had Pete pitied her too?

"Clem..?" Luke ventured gently. "Please, talk to me-"

"Goodnight, Luke." Clementine curled up against the rock, feeling vulnerable and exposed. She'd done everything to make sure the group knew she was a survivor, instead of some little kid to feel sorry for. She'd pulled her weight. She'd proven she was tough. And this whole time, she'd been a damn fool for thinking Luke would ever consider her an equal.

After a moment of silence came Luke's heavy reply. "... goodnight, Clem."

Clementine squeezed her eyes shut and started waiting for the sun to rise, because she sure as hell wasn't getting any sleep tonight.

~

When they set off again in the morning, Clementine drifted to the back of the group.

She felt safer, somehow, without anyone's eyes on her. She didn't know if anyone else had overheard her argument with Luke, but it was obvious they knew something was off. The others were walking on eggshells around her, which irritated her to no end, but it was better than pretending like everything was normal. Or worse; trying to get her to talk about it.

That was the last thing she wanted to do. Clementine didn't trust herself to not get emotional; her place in the group was already shaky, and exploding at them wouldn't help. Guilt gnawed at her conscience as she remembered the way she'd snapped at Luke. It wasn't his fault, not really; he'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

And... she couldn't exactly blame him for being curious. Whatever she said must've piqued his interest in a morbid way; he hadn't wanted to believe it was true. But now he knew for sure, and was probably wondering how she had survived through it all.

Clementine lifted her gaze to the front of the group where Luke had, once again, taken the lead. She stared hard at the back of his head, like she could see through his skull and read his thoughts. She'd already confided part of her past in him, but what happened at the St. John's... she didn't even like to think about it herself. It was one of the worst things she'd ever been through, and it had completely altered Luke's view of her.

She wasn't ready for them to know. That came with time, and trust.

Why couldn't he understand that?

~

They'd been walking for several hours when Alvin's worried voice broke the silence.

"Bec, you okay?"

Clementine stopped just short of the couple. Rebecca was hunched over with arms hugging her stomach, her expression pained.

"Y- yeah, she's just kicking, that's all..." Rebecca panted, looking unsure. Her eyebrows were drawn together, her forehead beaded with sweat. "It's nothing."

"Luke, we gotta stop," Alvin gently took his wife by the arm and led her over to a toppled log, guiding her to sit down. "Bec needs to rest. You need to rest." He told her insistently, concerned.

Rebecca made a noncommittal noise. "Maybe just for a few minutes..." She relented.

"Alright," Luke squinted up at the sky. "We can break for lunch. Take ten, everyone..." He looked the group over, noting everyone's weary expressions. "Actually, on second thought, take twenty." He amended.

Everyone settled down gratefully. After quickly checking their surroundings, Clementine lowered herself to the ground, her muscles aching. Her hands were covered in callouses, and her foot was throbbing painfully.

"Hey, Clem?" She looked up to see Carlos approaching her, slinging his medical bag off his shoulder.

Clementine grimaced. "It is time again already?"

"I'm afraid so," Carlos said, kneeling down beside her. "I think we can go ahead and remove the stitches in your arm."

"Really?" Clementine glanced down at her forearm, inspecting the bandages. "Will it hurt?"

"It shouldn't," Carlos reassured her, carefully unraveling the blood-stained fabric. "You will feel a bit of a pull, though," He rummaged around in his backpack before coming up with a pair of scissors. "Ready?"

"I guess..." Clementine mumbled, eyeing the thick fishing line warily.

Carlos snipped the end off the stitches and slowly tugged the other end. Clementine's breathing hitched. The area was sensitive, but the sensation was more uncomfortable than painful. After a few seconds, Carlos held up the line with a smile.

"See? Nothing to it," Carlos tucked the fishing line away and pulled out the bottle of disinfectant. "Now we just need to clean it, bandage it, and it should be perfectly fine in a couple days. It will leave a scar, though."

Clementine shrugged, wincing as Carlos cleaned out the wound. "It doesn't bother me."

Carlos inclined his head, wrapping her arm in fresh bandages and folding the dirty ones away. "We're running low on bandages," He murmured, more to himself than Clementine. "If we find a river, maybe I can clean these and reuse them..." He finished tying them off and sat back. "There. Now comes the hard part."

Clementine swallowed thickly and nodded, watching mutely as Carlos began unwrapping the bandages around her leg. While it got easier to bear each time, it still wasn't fun. She sucked in a breath as the disinfectant seeped into the wound. Carlos moved quickly, giving her an apologetic smile. He started re-wrapping it, telling her that it was healing well and that the swelling would go down in a couple days.

When he finished, Clementine slumped against the tree, utterly exhausted. This trip had taken a lot out of her. Her eyelids fluttered shut. Maybe she could catch a quick nap before they set off again. Unfortunately, it seemed Carlos had another agenda.

"Uh, Clem..?"

She blinked up at the doctor warily. "Yeah?"

"I know you're tired right now, but I overheard you and Luke last night, and I think you should talk about it."

Clementine jolted upright, staring at Carlos in shock. She swallowed hard, her stomach dropping. It was bad enough Luke and Nick knew, but Carlos? There was still tension between them; he was civil, sure, but she couldn't help but get the feeling that she was just an inconvenience to him, and he was only putting up with her because he had to. But all of a sudden, he heard a tragic story from her past and thought he could act like he cared about her. And now he wanted her to _talk_ about it? This was quickly getting out of hand; she didn't want this getting around.

She cast a quick look around her. No one else had noticed. Luke hadn't left his look-out post, gaze resting on the path ahead. Alvin and Rebecca were eating, and Nick had excused himself to use the restroom. Sarah was nestled against a tree stump, absorbed in her book. Clementine inhaled slowly and turned back to Carlos, setting her jaw.

"That's... none of your business," She said, her voice tight. "Okay? I don't want to talk about it."

"Which is exactly why you should," Carlos insisted. "It's not healthy to bottle things up. Besides, you're part of our group now. You can tell us anything."

"It's not a big deal, alright?" Clementine's voice pitched, and she sucked in a calming breath, dropping her tone. "Can you just drop it already?" She murmured, almost pleading.

"No, Clementine, I can't," Carlos said firmly, shaking his head. "You need to talk about it."

Clementine could feel her self-control slipping away, her gut churning with anger and inexplicable fear. "What, are you some kind of therapist now?" She spat, fighting to keep her voice level. "You barely know me! How could you possibly know what I need to do?"

"I know because I'm a _father."_

"Well, you're not _my_ father!"

Carlos flinched, and Clementine realized she was standing, clutching her walking stick in her fist like a weapon. The rest of the group had noticed. Alvin and Rebecca were watching with wide eyes. Sarah looked somewhere between confused and terrified, clutching her book to her chest like a shield. Luke had left his post and was coming over, worry etched into his features.

Clementine dropped her arm in shock, leaning heavily against the tree, and folded her arms defensively, her throat tightening. She forced herself to relax, setting her jaw and throwing her glare from person to person, silently daring someone to say something. Carlos looked like he would take her up on that offer when someone else spoke.

"Woah, what's going on?" Nick, back from his bathroom break, stared at the toxic scene in confusion, hands raised defensively. "Did... did I miss something..?"

"I don't know, Nick, why don't _you_ tell _me?"_ Clementine said scathingly. "Matter of fact, why not just tell _everyone?"_

Nick's bewildered gaze darted to Luke, whose jaw tightened. "It's... I told her about what happened," He said carefully. "Back at the cabin a little while back?"

Eyes widening with realization, Nick glanced over at Clementine. "Oh... _oh,_ Clem, fuck I- we didn't mean to-"

"It doesn't matter what you _meant_ to do," Clementine hissed, hugging her arms around herself. "You _know_ now."

"Clem," Luke stepped in to diffuse the situation. "You know as well as I do that a group has got to trust each other, alright? Keepin' all this to yourself... it's not healthy. You're hurtin' real bad, and you gotta open up about these things."

"Don't lecture me about trust, Luke," Clementine blinked tears from her eyes, and the realization that she was crying just made her angrier. "Like this is s- some.. up-standing g- group built on love and- and _trust._ I don't owe y- you guys anything! This group isn't shit; it's not a _family!"_ Her voice was hoarse, and damn it all, Luke was right; she _was_ hurting. "And you know what? I'm not even part of this group, I'm just here because I have _nowhere else to go!_ Once I find Christa, I'll be glad if I _never_ see any of you _ever again!"_

The words were hollow, filled with spite but no real truth. She forced them out anyways, each one stabbing into her like a knife. Some dark place inside her wanted to hurt them, like they hurt her. She just wanted to see the _pain_ register in Luke's eyes. But there was none, just quiet resignation.

"Do you really mean that, Clem?" Luke asked gently.

She didn't. He knew she didn't. And that was enough for the floodgates to open.

_"N-no..."_ Clementine sank to the ground, choking back a sob. "No, I don't- I didn't mean it, I didn't mean _any_ of it, I'm s- sorry... I'm so _sorry..."_

Suddenly Luke was hugging her, and Carlos, and Nick and Alvin and Rebecca, and even Sarah joined, because even though she didn't understand what was going on she knew Clementine was hurting, and that was enough.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," She cried even harder. "I d- didn't mean it..."

"Shh, it's okay, Clem," Luke soothed her. "We know, we know."

"None of this is your fault." Carlos said quietly.

"Hey, now, it's alright." Alvin comforted her.

"I'm sorry, too," Rebecca murmured. "We're all sorry..."

"You're gonna be just fine, kid." Nick assured her.

"Y- yeah, Clementine, please don't cry." Sarah whispered.

Clementine smiled through her tears, nearly overwhelmed with the warmth and sincerity radiating from the group. She had been wrong before. They _were_ a family. That was enough for her to make up her mind. "Back at the cabin," She took a shaky breath. "I... had a nightmare about something that happened when I was younger..."

"Clem, you don't have to-" Luke started, but Clementine waved him away.

"Everyone might as well know," She said quietly. "Besides, you don't know the whole story."

Luke's eyes softened, and he nodded.

"When I was eight," Clementine began again. "My group and I met some people. The St. John family. They were... nice. They were _perfect,_ even, the answer to all our problems. They had this dairy farm that was protected by an electric fence. It was... safe... _beautiful._ Untouched, like everything was before. At least, we thought it was..."

Her breath caught, and Sarah gave her arm a squeeze, her eyes wide and frightened but full of strength.

"There were bandits in the woods," Clementine continued, shutting her eyes tightly. "They attacked us... one of us got hurt. Mark. They shot an arrow into his shoulder. He... it wasn't that serious. He would've been fine," Her voice shook. "Brenda, she- she took him inside, said she'd take care of him."

"Oh, god..." Nick muttered sympathetically. He knew what was coming next.

"They... they invited us to dinner," Clementine stared at the ground, her voice growing haunted. "I- I think Lee knew something was wrong. He snuck away, and... he found Mark. Or, what was left of him. They... they'd c- cut off his legs, a- and cooked them for dinner."

Several people gasped at once, and Clementine swallowed.

"Lee stopped me from eating, just in time," She said quickly, quelling that fear. "He told us what happened. Things.. escalated after that. Andy grabbed me, and Danny pulled his gun. They... they tried to _defend_ themselves, what they were doing... they said that he would've died anyway, and they were just doing what they had to survive. It was sick," Clementine suppressed a shudder. _"They_ were sick."

"What happened?" Carlos ventured, his eyes filled with horror.

"Mark," Clementine breathed. "He... made his way down the stairs."

She had glossed over some of the more grisly details, all too aware of Sarah beside her. She remembered the way Mark had dragged himself down the stairs, _thump, thump, thump,_ and then the overwhelming smell of blood- and Brenda had just grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back upstairs like... like a misbehaving child. And the whole time Mark was just... _moaning,_ begging for help, begging for _death..._

"The St. John's panicked," Clementine said, her throat tightening. "They knocked Lee out, took Katjaa and Duck and locked the rest of us in their meat locker. It was... _terrible._ Larry was yelling, and Lilly got sick... Kenny was going mad, separated from his family. I was so scared..." She inhaled slowly. "After Lee woke up, we tried to find a way out, but... Larry didn't make it. He had a heart attack. Lilly, his daughter... she tried to save him, her and Lee, but Kenny... before they could, he- he put him down."

Whenever she had nightmares about that night, it was always in the meat locker. That cold, cramped room flickering with fluorescent lighting, Larry's yells echoing off the walls... Kenny pacing back and forth like a caged animal, and the smell of blood and bile in the air...

Larry- a strangled gasp, a thud, and then nothing. Lilly's desperate pleas, falling on Kenny's deaf ears. Clementine had turned away, but she heard the sickening crack, and out of the corner of her eye saw the dark spray of red fleck the concrete floor, and she knew it was over.

"We managed to find a way out," Clementine pushed on, gritting her teeth. "Lee pulled the air vent off and I crawled through to... the room where _it_ happened," She lowered her eyes. "After I let the others out, everything happened so fast... Lee killed them, all of them. Danny with a pitch fork, Andy with a gun. He.. he told me he had to do it, make sure that what happened to Mark wouldn't happen to anyone else, ever again."

She looked up at the group, taking in their horrified expressions.

"Oh my god, Clementine..." Rebecca looked stricken. "I- I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

"That's... just awful!" Sarah's eyes were full of tears.

"And you've just been... keepin' this to yourself..?" Alvin's eyes were wide. "That's a lot to carry."

Clementine bit her lip. "I... didn't want to talk about it before because that night, anything from my past, really... it reminds me of when I was younger and _helpless._ And with everything happening now... with my leg, I- I _hate_ feeling helpless," She admitted. "I didn't want to think about it. And when I accidentally told you guys about it, I didn't want to deal with it," Clementine sighed. "I'm sorry, Luke... Nick... it wasn't your fault."

"Oh, Clem... don't worry about it," Luke said gently. "It wasn't fair of me to expect so much from you."

"I can understand wanting to keep something like that to yourself." Carlos agreed sadly.

"But... I- I guess you were right, Carlos, you and Luke both," Clementine said, her heart swelling with warmth. "I do feel better."

"Well, good. I'm proud of you," Luke smiled. "I know it must've been hard to open up like this, but I'm glad you did."

"And if you ever want to talk to us, don't hesitate," Carlos offered. "We're a group; you can tell us anything."

"I'll... keep that in mind." Clementine promised. She wasn't sure how much of her past she wanted to share with them, but she wasn't so scared of the prospect anymore, even though she knew it would be hard. It would all come in time, and whatever happened, she knew she could trust them.

It was... nice.

"Okay, everyone," Luke cleared his throat. "This had been nice and all, but I'm worried all this... _activity_ might've attracted attention. We oughta get moving."

They all agreed, and when they set off again, Clementine walked next to Luke. He didn't say anything, but he wore an enormous grin for the rest of the day.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Author's Note:** Hi readers! I really appreciate the feedback you've been giving me, so here's a nice long chapter. I hope you all had a nice holiday season; I have a laptop now so hopefully updates will come quicker since I'll always have access. Of course, classes are going to start up this week, so I may have to maintain updates every other Monday to keep up with it all. We're halfway through PII now, and there's action coming up very soon, so stay tuned.
> 
>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Language, and mentions of death. This chapter is actually pretty mild, but very feelsy.
> 
> And now, without further ado, please read on and enjoy Chapter Sixteen of Stump! :) - Aqua

"C'mon, Luke, let me take the first shift." Nick insisted.

Clementine glanced up from her spot on the forest floor, resisting the urge to groan. She'd heard this argument more than enough lately, and she was sick of it.

They were at the end of their fourth day of travel, and tensions were running high, especially between Luke and Nick. They butted heads. _A lot._ About the smallest things, too. Luke had definitely stepped into a leadership role, and in addition to all the stress it was causing him, Clementine suspected it gave Nick somewhat of an inferiority complex. There was a noticeable change in the way Luke interacted with Nick. It was almost like Luke was sheltering him, always declining his offers to keep watch and checking up on him so frequently it was almost excessive.

Nick was at the end of his tether, chafing under Luke's overbearing concerns. His temper was short, and that combined with his lingering emotional fragility made for a toxic mix of emotions. Already the atmosphere was becoming unbearable, and Clementine had a bad feeling in her gut.

"No, it's alright, Nick," Luke said gently, as expected. "You just get some rest, okay?"

"I'm fine, Luke. You ain't slept for shit all week!" Nick pointed out.

There was a certain element of truth to his words. Luke's eyes were bloodshot and ringed with dark circles, his expression haggard. Even though he took turns with Alvin and Carlos, Luke was the one who kept watch the most. All the responsibility he'd put on himself recently was starting to wear him down, though Clementine knew he'd never admit it.

Irritation crossed Luke's features. "I said it was alright, Nick-"

"Bullshit!" Nick shot back.

"Nick, that's _enough,"_ Carlos stepped in, his voice stern. He spread his hands in a placating gesture. "This isn't worth fighting over. Just let us handle it."

"I already told you guys, I'm fine!" Nick folded his arms, defensive. He narrowed his eyes. "What, cause of what happened with Pete you don't trust me to keep watch anymore?"

"That's not true," Luke winced, and Clementine could tell Nick had hit the nail on the head. "You've just been through a lot, okay, and I thought you should just take some time and recover."

She watched the scene unfold with wide eyes, chewing her lip. Alvin and Rebecca were wisely staying out of it, and Sarah was trying to pretend she wasn't listening, her face hidden behind her book. Clementine didn't know whether she should intervene or not; it didn't really seem like her place, but things were quickly getting out of hand.

"In case you hadn't noticed, Luke, we're in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse!" Nick's voice had a scathing bite to it, raw with barely concealed emotion. "I can't afford to just _'take some time',_ alright? This group needs as much help as it can get, what with us on the run, Rebecca expectin', and us takin' care of two kids!"

"We managed just fine without you!" Luke retorted.

Hurt flashed across Nick's face before twisting into anger, his expression darkening. "Well, if you don't need me, then maybe I'll just leave!" He spat. Nick turned on his heel and stormed off down the trail, a dangerous habit he'd developed lately when he wanted to be alone.

The clearing was quiet for a moment. Clementine swallowed and glanced over at Luke, who was staring in the direction Nick had gone with regret.

"I... I shouldn't have said that," Luke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'd better go after him."

"Want me to come with?" Carlos asked.

"No, that's okay," Luke waved him off. "I just need to talk to him."

"Be careful, then," Carlos offered, folding his arms. "You know how it gets at night."

"Yep." Luke disappeared into the trees, his footsteps fading away.

The air was filled with an uncomfortable silence. Carlos shook his head and sat back down heavily, worrying his temples like he was warding off a headache.

"Damn..." Alvin muttered. "I'm worried 'bout that kid."

"Luke, or Nick?" Rebecca asked tiredly.

"Both."

Clementine heaved a sigh. All this infighting was getting old. And just when things between her and the group had started getting better... she hoped that once they were safe from Carver, it would all just go back to normal. Or, as normal as they could be, anyways.

Her gaze shifted over to Sarah, who was staring blankly in the direction the two had gone. A pang of worry shot through her; Sarah didn't handle conflict well.

Walking stick in hand, Clementine stood and moved towards the other girl. She could feel Carlos watching her out of the corner of his eye, but she paid him no mind. Whether he approved of their friendship or not, Sarah needed some comfort.

She stopped in front of Sarah. "Can I join you?"

Sarah jerked her shoulder in a shrug, gesturing vaguely with her arm.

Clementine took that as a yes and sat next to her, carefully lowering herself to the ground. "Thanks. So... how are you? Are you alright?" She asked.

Sarah shrugged again, eyes downcast. "I- I don't know... I just... I hate it when they fight." She drew her legs in close, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Yeah, me too," Clementine agreed. "Everyone's just stressed out. I'm sure they'll be fine."

Sarah nodded, but didn't look up.

"Is something... bothering you..?" Clementine ventured. Things had felt off between them the past couple of days. She was starting to worry she'd done something to upset the older girl.

"No, it's just..." Sarah hesitated, her eyes flitting up to meet Clementine's for a second before darting away. "It's nothing."

"Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me," Clementine reassured her. "We're friends, remember?"

Sarah bit her lip, looking up warily. She studied Clementine for a moment before sighing. "Okay... you- you remember a couple of days ago..." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "When you were... _yelling,_ at everyone..?"

Clementine's throat tightened. "Yeah?"

"It just... it really scared me." Sarah admitted softly.

Clementine swallowed hard, struck by guilt. She'd said some pretty horrible things to the group in her anger, and they'd forgiven her, but she hadn't taken the time to really explain to Sarah that she hadn't meant what she said. Of course she'd feel hurt and confused; Clementine was supposed to be her friend.

"I'm really sorry about that," Clementine said, her voice thick. "I was... emotional, and I said some things I didn't mean. I was working through some stuff, and you guys helped a lot."

"Really?" Sarah asked skeptically.

"Really," Clementine nodded. "It isn't good to bottle things up until you explode. I'm glad you told me how you felt; I don't want you to be afraid of me, and I want to stay here, with you guys."

"That's good," Sarah gave her a tentative smile. "I want you to be here, too. But... you're not going to get like that again, are you?"

"Don't worry, I won't, I-" Clementine paused. She'd been about to say 'I promise', and she didn't want to make promises she couldn't keep, especially to Sarah. Realistically, she had no idea how she'd act in the future. One heart to heart didn't mean all her emotional problems were solved.

"I'll try." She said truthfully.

"Okay," Sarah seemed satisfied with her answer. "I'm glad we're friends."

"Me too," Clementine said warmly. She could feel the last of the wall between them crumbling. "Do you think you could read me a chapter of your book?"

"Sure!" Sarah beamed, rifling through the pages until she found where she'd left off.

They huddled closer, squinting at the book in the fading light, and Clementine could breathe easy again.

~

Luke cursed under his breath, peering through the darkening forest.

This was just great. He hadn't meant to snap, but he had, and things were hard enough right now without them arguing all the time. Guilt churned in his stomach as he recalled the look on Nick's face. Anger, he could handle, but that raw pain was just too much for him to not try and fix things between them. Hell, they'd been through so much together... he knew Nick well enough to recognize when his fuse was getting short. He should've known not to push him.

Dammit.

"Nick?" Luke spotted his friend's lanky silhouette and broke into a jog. "Hey, wait up man, I need to talk to you," He caught up to him in a few long strides. "Please, Nick, just wait."

Nick huffed, but stopped all the same, turning to face him. "What?"

Luke swallowed hard. "Listen, man, I just... wanted to say I'm sorry for what I said before," He reached out and rested a hand on Nick's shoulder, who was avoiding his eyes. "I didn't mean it."

"S'fine." Nick mumbled, crossing his arms across his chest defensively. Luke recognized the familiar gesture as a sign of his anxiety, swimming just beneath his mask of indifference.

"No, it's not," Luke said quietly. "You're right, I have been treating you differently since Pete died. It's not fair to you, okay, and I'm sorry. I just... I worry about you, alright? I was just tryin' to help you. I... I know you can handle yourself, okay, but it doesn't make it any easier to see you hurting."

Nick looked up. "Ah, hell, Luke... it's okay. I- I know you didn't mean anything by it, I just..."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me," Luke reassured him. "My fault, okay? I'll try harder from now on, try and make it up to you. And... I've got something for you."

Nick raised an eyebrow warily. "We're doin' gifts now?"

"Oh, come on, I have a feeling you'll like this one." Luke slipped a familiar silver wristwatch from his pocket.

Nick's suspicious expression melted into one of shock as Luke held the watch out. "Holy shit, my watch!" Nick exclaimed, taking it from Luke gingerly. "I- I thought I left it at the cabin... it's... all I have left of Pete now." His voice choked, and his eyes grew misty.

"I know," Luke said gently. "I figured you'd like to have it, I was just waitin' for the right moment. Clem's got his whittling knife, if you wanted it."

"Nah, she can keep it," A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. "I'm a shit whittler, anyways. Thank you, Luke. This means... a lot," Nick strapped the watch to his wrist, running a thumb over the clock face. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Luke replied warmly.

Nick studied his face for a moment before pulling him into a hug. Luke returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around the other. His breath caught, and suddenly Luke didn't want to let go. The tears came unbidden, streaking down his face before he could stop them. He choked back a sob, squeezing his eyes shut.

Nick's arms tightened around him, and Luke stopped trying to fight it. He hid his face in the curve of Nick's neck and finally let go of the long withheld cries.

He realized suddenly how much of a goddamn hypocrite he was. He'd been neglecting his feelings these past couple of days, pushing it all to the back of his mind. A part of him knew it wasn't healthy, but he hadn't wanted to deal with the pain, not when they were still in so much danger. He had to be strong for the group, get them all away safely, and then handle his emotions alone.

He should've known better; Pete's death wasn't something he could ignore.

Growing up, the man was like a second father. Beneath that gruff exterior was a warm smile and some damn good wisdom, wrought from experience. He'd always been there for Luke, and when everything went to hell he was there for him time and time again. He saved them, taught Luke how to survive when he wasn't sure he even wanted to. Luke had looked up to him; a good leader, and a better man.

And now he was gone.

"It's okay," Nick said hoarsely. "I miss him too. You- you're allowed to grieve, yeah? It's okay."

Luke nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. "Yeah, I- I know. Thanks, man," He pulled back, brushing the tears away and managing a small smile. "I needed that. Let's get back to the others, before they start to worry."

"Yeah, okay." Nick's eyes were soft.

They walked back to camp in companionable silence. If anyone noticed the pair's red, puffy eyes, no one said anything. Carlos simply nodded at them in acknowledgement. Alvin and Rebecca were politely turned away, containing the concern and curiosity he knew they must have. Clementine and Sarah were snuggled up together, the latter reading from her book in a hushed but excited tone. Clementine was absorbed in the story, not even looking up at their arrival.

Luke caught Carlos' eye and grinned, inclining his head towards the two girls. He knew the doctor had his misgivings about Clementine joining the group, and he feared she'd be a bad influence on his daughter, but it seemed like the opposite was true. Luke himself was glad Sarah had someone closer to her age to confide in; he couldn't imagine what it was like growing up in the world now.

"Hey, girls," Luke greeted them. "Having fun?"

"Yeah," Sarah bobbed her head up and down. "It's a really good book!"

"Sarah's a really good story-teller." Clementine added with a glance at Sarah, who smiled bashfully.

"Well, I am happy to hear it," Luke said sincerely. "Sun's goin' down, we're gonna set up camp here, okay. You eaten' yet?"

"Nuh uh." Sarah perked up at the thought of food and rose to her feet, dusting her jeans off before turning to help Clementine up.

"I hope we have some applesauce left." Clementine said, letting Sarah pull her up. Luke masked his surprise; Clementine normally didn't like being helped.

"I'll go check!" Sarah exclaimed, darting off to check their food supply.

"Easy there," Luke chuckled. "Let me help you."

Clementine caught Luke by the arm as he passed. He stopped short, put off by her sudden and firm grip. "Everything okay now?" She asked quietly, her golden eyes narrowed and burning with intensity. "No more fighting? Because it's not helping Sarah, or anyone else for that matter."

Luke's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he looked askance at Nick. "Uh, yeah, sorry 'bout that... we're all good now, Clem."

"Good," Clementine released him, letting her arm fall to her side. Her expression softened. "Don't push yourself too hard, Luke." Her voice was low and severe, far too mature for her age.

"I- hey, now, aren't I supposed to be lookin' after you?" Luke's voice was teasing, but his heart tightened painfully all the same. "I'm fine."

Clementine pursed her lips. "Okay then," She held his gaze for a moment longer before breaking into an easy smile, turning over her shoulder to call to Sarah. "Want to sit together?" She asked, her voice light and completely devoid of the threatening and serious tone she'd had earlier.

"Okay, sure!" Sarah replied, and the two girls were off, moving to an unearthed tree to eat their meal.

Luke was taken aback by Clementine's abrupt change in attitude. Around Sarah, she was a carefree, giggling child; a _friend._ She could act her age, enjoy the small things, and not have to worry about anything. But in the blink of an eye she could become a protector, a mediator... assume the responsibilities that befell her with a maturity beyond her years.

His surprise was quickly dulled by sadness. She shouldn't have to worry about Sarah, about him or the group... life was bad enough without her thinking she had to look after everyone. He needed to- they all needed to step up. Clementine had just suffered a horrible, life-changing injury; she should just be focusing on healing and adjusting.

He wondered, not for the first time, what it must be like growing up in all the madness; how it affected your psych. It was hard enough as an adult, dealing not only with lurkers but fucked up survivors as well. Sickness, cold, starvation... and wrestling with your own will to live. Luke didn't think about the future often, whether or not the world would ever return to normal, but he knew anyone who lived through this hell would never be the same.

He could see the damage and trauma in Clementine. It was in her eyes, the way she held herself; always anticipating danger. There were times he suspected she didn't even realize she was doing it. Her shoulders would hunch over with tension, her jaw would set, and her fingers would curl even tighter around her walking stick. And yet everything could be just fine; she could be talking, even laughing... they could be safe and happy and she'd still be on edge. He didn't think he'd ever seen the kid truly relaxed... well, except when-

Except when she was with Sarah.

Luke blinked and looked over at the two girls, who were chatting as they ate dinner. The change in Clementine was astounding; it was hard to believe she was the same wary survivor he found in the woods that night, piercing golden eyes filled with mistrust and the promise of a fight. Caution and grit like that was wrought from experience, and he'd known right away it wasn't just dumb luck that had kept her alive this long.

Clementine would do whatever it took to survive, and that made her dangerous.

Sarah couldn't be any more different. She hated violence and conflict, and avoided it whenever possible. She was soft-spoken, gentle, and very sensitive to the needs and emotions of those around her. And there was still a spark in her eyes; despite everything, she still held onto hope.

Clementine was jaded, while Sarah was still naive. Clementine's trust was hard-earned, while Sarah trusted wholeheartedly. Clementine had been tested in the hottest fires of hell, seen the very worst this world had to offer, and had come out on top. Sarah had managed to keep her innocence, through the efforts of her father's sheltering; she had never really seen how bad it was out there, but she wasn't totally clueless. She had an idea simply based on the experiences of everyone around her.

Despite these differences, they were close; closer than Luke would've expected. One would think that Clementine's drive for survival would make her disregard someone like Sarah, but somehow she repeatedly made an effort to seek out the other girl; not just a friendship of convenience, but one born from a deep desire for companionship. And Sarah's mild nature should make her recoil from someone like Clementine, but she had taken to the younger girl like a fish to water.

It had never dawned on him how important and special their relationship really was. He knew Sarah was the better for it, anyone could see that, but he hadn't realized just how much their friendship was helping _Clementine._

It was obvious, now.

Luke decided, right then and there, that he would do whatever it took to help foster the tentative bond between them. Clementine was still in a very unstable state, and Carlos' disapproval might be enough to make Sarah withdraw. He'd show the doctor just how important their friendship was; he'd understand, it just might take a while for him to see Clementine really was no threat to his daughter.

It would all work out. For the sake of everyone involved, it had to.

"Alright, everyone, go ahead and hunker down for the night," Luke addressed the group. "We leave bright and early tomorrow. We're almost there, okay, and once we get to the mountains, we should be safe." Even Carver couldn't follow them there. Hopefully.

"That's what I like to hear." Rebecca murmured, rolling her shoulders. Alvin smiled reassuringly and put an arm around around her.

"We're almost there? Really?" Clementine sat up straighter, peering over tree tops in an attempt to see the mountain peaks in the distance.

"Yep," Luke nodded. "We should make it to the mountains by tomorrow night if we keep a good pace, so get some sleep. We'll need all our strength."

He hadn't missed how anxious this trip had been making Clementine, but it was hard to tell what exactly was causing it; being pursued by Carver, the constant threat of lurkers, or her fear of being unable to keep up. A little while back her leg had really been hurting her, and when Alvin had offered to carry her, Clementine had nearly panicked. When he'd scooped the kid up anyways, Luke had feared Alvin would end up with a black eye. But she'd given in eventually, after a few halfhearted protests, and the rest had helped her a great deal.

Clementine didn't want any of them thinking she couldn't keep up. He didn't know what she thought they'd do if she couldn't; they wouldn't abandon her, not after everything they'd been through. Even with Carver after them.

He couldn't help but wonder where Clementine had gotten that intense fear of being weak. What kind of group had she traveled with that made her feel this way? The idea that anyone who couldn't keep up was a burden and should be left behind... wherever she'd learned that, it had made a huge impression, and at such a young age... it was obvious she was ready for this journey to be over.

It was things like this that reminded Luke he didn't know everything about her. Which was okay; it would all come in due time.

"Good," Clementine's face was a mix of emotions. She shook her head and blinked, her expression clearing into one of contentment. "That's good."

 _Yes,_ Luke told himself as he settled down to keep watch. _All in due time._

~

Sarah couldn't sleep.

She had gotten used to the cabin. Having a roof over her head, a bed to sleep in... things had been better there. Not _good,_ nowhere was really good anymore and she didn't think there ever would be, but better. They were safe- wait, could people really be safe anymore? No, _no,_ of course not, but you could be _safer._ That what the cabin had been.

Better. Safer.

And now things were... less so. To say the least.

The air was cold, biting at her skin, and the ground was hard and unforgiving. And it was hard to sleep because of the wind rifling through the trees, and every sound could mean danger- or it could mean nothing. She couldn't see well in the dark. That made it all even worse- she wasn't really afraid of the dark, no, not since she was little, but Dad had told her a thousand times that it was dangerous to go out at night, and out in the open like this they were so vulnerable...

A branch dropped from a nearby tree, and Sarah's heart jumped.

Beside her, Clementine stirred, her brows drawn together. After a moment, her face smoothed out again, body relaxing. Sarah watched her for a moment, the gentle rise and fall of her stomach as her breathing evened out. Her heart swelled with warmth, the feeling spreading to the very tips of her fingers. She liked Clementine; liked talking with her and being near her, liked when they read together... it was nice to have a friend.

Clementine shifted again, curling into herself as a shudder ran through her body. She was cold- of course. Sarah wrung her hands together; she was only an arm's length away... sometimes when she had nightmares she would climb into her dad's bed for comfort, listening to the soothing sound of his heartbeat. Maybe Clementine wouldn't mind if she moved a little closer. Would she? It was cold, and snuggling closer together would keep them warm...

She bit her lip, made up her mind, and inched closer to Clementine, as slowly as she could so as not to wake the other girl. Clementine rolled onto her side, subconsciously turning her face towards Sarah so that her head was resting on her shoulder. Sarah lightly draped her arm over Clementine, who snuggled closer instantly. Already her body heat was rising at the simple contact, and Sarah held back a contented sigh.

In moments like these, when everything was peaceful and quiet and Clementine looked so calm it was hard to remember what everything was really like. Only a few days ago she'd been so angry and scared and _shouting_ \- but Sarah couldn't hold that against her, that wouldn't be fair, no. It wasn't her fault; Sarah didn't think she could have survived what Clementine had. Her admiration and sympathy for the younger girl had only grown, so while she didn't like shouting, she supposed it really didn't matter that much.

Besides, she knew Clementine would never hurt her, and that was enough.

Sarah craned her neck up, careful not to disturb Clementine, and squinted through the darkness at her father. He'd switched out with Luke a half-hour ago; the latter was already snoring soundly, leaning against Nick. Dad was practically motionless, aside from occasionally swiveling his head to scan their surroundings. Illuminated only by the moonlight, his face looked older than she'd ever seen, each wrinkle and crease in his rough face deepened by shadows. He didn't know she was awake; he wasn't bothering to hide how tired he was, his shoulders sagging forward and his forearms resting on his knees.

It made her heart tighten because she loved her father more than anything, but she knew he wasn't happy about her being friends with Clementine.

He hadn't said so outright, but he didn't have to. It was as plain as anything; in the crease of his brows and the huff in his voice, the way he regarded Clementine. He didn't like that she was so closed off, but Sarah couldn't hold that against her like he did. But she also couldn't blame Dad for worrying; if he didn't feel like he could trust Clementine there was no way he'd want Sarah being friends with her.

He worried a lot, and it made Sarah feel bad, but she didn't know what she could do about it- aside from breaking away from Clementine. But the thought of doing that made her feel even worse.

Clementine was her friend; she didn't have to be perfect.

Sarah bit her lip and settled again, leaning gently against Clementine, who turned her head to nestle into the curve of Sarah's neck. The younger girl was breathing deep, heavy breaths that spoke of a dreamless sleep, a tranquil expression on her face. Sarah let her eyes finally drift shut.

Hopefully her father would understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Enjoy this chapter? Leave a review and let me know! I also welcome constructive criticism. See you next time! :) - Aqua


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